


Blurred Lines

by ijnt



Category: Naruto
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Body Horror, Female Uchiha Itachi, Gen, KATSU-SENSEI IS THE LAW!, Kane is the the cutest blueberry, LOTS of violence, OCs - Freeform, Self-Insert, Trans Female Character, Uchiha Clan-centric, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-21 23:45:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 69,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7409881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ijnt/pseuds/ijnt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"However strong you become, never seek to bear everything alone. If you do, failure is certain." Being Uchiha Itachi is as much a blessing as it is a curse, because most problems can be solved with a precise application of violence. Except, you know, the important ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dudes and Dudettes

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I totally don't own Naruto.
> 
> I also can helpfully admit that some of the inspiration from this story comes from Supernatural Crossover Girl's story about girl!Kakashi, Dysphoria. That being said, I don't think I'm stealing her idea, and there are notable differences between these two stories. This story, however, did take the initial plotbunny from there.
> 
> That being said, I'm trying to write this story in a way that keeps it distinctly Naruto, while keeping the complicated issue of gender identity relevant. The goal is to strike a balance between the two.
> 
> On another note, in the interest of being perfectly clear, Itachi is the OC/poorly-disguised-self insert. She is physically male, but considers herself female — hence the feminine pronouns. This is also true for her previous life. So while she knows she's female, everyone else sees her as a boy.

Sasuke whimpered in his cloth sling again, and Itachi clutched him tighter to her chest. He was only months old, and she couldn't find either of her parents. The night was silent, cold, and the moon was full.

A bad feeling was in the air.

That feeling was quite literal. In a world full of chakra, 'bad feelings' more than likely had a real cause. Like, for instance, a giant orange nine-tailed rage monster made of pure hatred. Itachi couldn't explain her uneasiness very well, other than the fact that there was chill in her spine, and the goosebumps on her lower back would not go away.

It was October tenth. Minato and Kushina were dying. But there wasn't anything she could have done, right? She was five. Was it foolish, not having gone to the Yondaime and demanded to be seen, and spilling everything she could remember? Perhaps.

But that was the problem — she didn't know if everything would be how she remembered it, and could very easily make everything much worse without even trying. And who's to say that that warning would end up doing anything? The Kyuubi was a terrifying beast, and people feared it for good reason. Knowing it was coming might not have helped Minato, and the result could have been the same anyway.

As if on cue, an enormous, angry roar sounded through the village. Konoha wasn't small, either.

Sasuke began to whine. Itachi rocked him a bit, but he didn't quiet down. Instead, he picked up the volume. What a baby. She sighed, and started to whisper.

"Hey Sasuke, it's going to be fine. Don't worry, little guy. I'm here."

Itachi could feel a kind of cloying terror — the air was thick with it — so she focused on Sasuke instead. Regardless of how she might have felt about him, he was her little brother, and their parents weren't around to protect them, so there it was. And besides, he was a baby. He hadn't grown up to be the self-possessed and ultimately cruel child from the series that she remembered. And hopefully he never would.

Itachi didn't much like that Sasuke, but it wasn't hard to decide that this one would be one worth knowing. She could see to that.

* * *

The gates of Konoha's shinobi academy were actually somewhat imposing, if Itachi was being honest. It wasn't as much that they were really that big or scary, but it was probably more of the reminder of what she was — so very very short again, at six years old — and what they represented — induction into the ranks of the child soldiers.

But even now, years later, she could still remember those feelings of despair, of fear, of terrifying killing intent, and Itachi knew she wanted this, because she didn't want to feel like that ever again.

Either way, it wasn't like there was much of a choice. It was only her mother's insistence that had kept her out of the academy last year — because, honestly, at five, it felt like kids should be learning to count and playing with blocks and definitely not learning how to kill people.

Of course, she probably should have seen that coming, seeing as Itachi had seen her sweet-faced, perfect housewife of a mother kill a man before most children learned to read.

"Itachi?" Mikoto was frowning at her. Itachi had stopped, and stared up at the kanji for fire that decorated the top of the gate. She shook herself out of it, and followed her mother and father into the yard, with the crowd that was gathering to listen to the Hokage's introduction speech.

Mikoto smiled softly, and put her hand on Itachi's shoulder to guide them behind Fugaku to a spot to listen. They were Uchiha, after all, and they had to make a show of looking superior to everyone else. It was practically mandatory.

The Hokage looked old and tired, and Itachi supposed that he had to be. The Yondaime had only died months ago. She'd had a decent understanding of the manga, and had watched most of the TV show, but wasn't totally sure that a lot of the dates were even made clear — or weren't contradictory. Itachi distinctly remembered something about the Sanbi being in two places at once around this time, but couldn't recall everything clearly. It was only two or so years ago that the memories of a past life had even started to make sense.

Sometimes, she wondered if she was really Itachi and just had strange dreams, or if she really was someone else reborn as Itachi. Itachi was Itachi, though, and that was enough.

Of course, the fact that she was really much older than she should have been was only part of the reason Itachi was here early as the hope of the next generation of the Uchiha and the pride of her father. Itachi wasn't one of the biggest badasses of Naruto for no reason, after all. And he really only died because he was sick and let Sasuke beat him. She had no intention of doing that. Sasuke was a cute baby, but he wasn't that cute.

But, being Itachi instead of someone else, she was just better than she'd remembered being in that other life. She'd been somewhat athletic, but was relatively sure that her-as-Itachi even now could take her past self when she'd actually practiced martial arts, at peak physical fitness. It would be hilariously not close at all, because Itachi was just naturally gifted as all hell. There was just no comparing them, really. And even this world's basic Academy taijutsu beat out most martial arts she'd seen before. It was simple, and straightforward, but it wasn't bad.

Mastery of a rarer or more specific form of taijutsu, like Naruto's Frog Kata, the totally unfair Gentle Fist, or one more suited to a person's body type and natural strengths, would be more effective than mastery of the simple academy forms. However, mastery over any kind of taijutsu rarely resembled any kind of basic form. Still, there wasn't anything wrong with the technically correct kicks, punches and blocks one learned at the academy. Ultimately, the academy style focused around giving students building blocks that they could use to develop their individual style of hand-to-hand combat. Similarly, if students were learning from a different source, such as a sensei or a clan, the academy taijutsu strove to be versatile enough to flow seamlessly into a specialized style. As such, the form itself was generic, with very few strengths or weaknesses.

And Fugaku, being who he was, pretty much trained her from the time she could walk to develop her natural gifts, not only in taijutsu. In fact, Itachi could comfortably say that taijutsu was her weakest area, even considering her small stature. Probably the most impressive was the absolutely silly level of reflexes and hand-eye coordination she had now, compared to before. At five, Itachi could hit bullseyes with kunai regularly and out-sprint her full-grown past self. It was almost hilarious, until she remembered how easy it could be to murder someone.

"Itachi." Mikoto said calmly. The Hokage had finished up his little introductory speech by now. "You have your bento?" she asked. Itachi nodded. "Your books? Notebooks? Everything you need?" she nodded again, reminding herself that Mikoto was a first-time mother sending her child off to ninja school for the first time. "I know you will do us proud."

"Yes, Mother," she replied.

Then, she leaned down, and put her forehead against Itachi's. "And you have already made me proud."

Sometimes, Mikoto was just awesome.

Fugaku piped up for the first time, "You are Uchiha, and you will excel." Itachi just nodded her head in assent.

Her mother leaned down and dusted off Itachi's dark pants, before straightening and fixing the high collar of her shirt. "Now, you don't want to be late, and I have to go check on your brother. Someone will be here to pick you up when you're done."

And then she let Itachi go, and they were gone in a flutter of leaves.

* * *

Itachi stepped calmly through the doors of the house, as the Uchiha Military Police officer body-flickered away. Fugaku wasn't home, and she didn't see Mikoto as she walked in. Itachi popped into the nursery to check on Sasuke. He was asleep. Good.

She shut the door to her room, and for the first time that day, allowed her posture to slouch and let herself fall ungracefully onto the futon. Itachi could feel the hot sting of tears in her eyes. She didn't want to face this life.

She was Uchiha Itachi. The ninja who murdered his entire family under orders, who apparently defected and joined Akatsuki, and who finally died, willingly, by the hand of his murderous little brother. That was part of the problem. Itachi had never really liked Sasuke in that other life. She didn't consider that original Itachi to be that much better than him, but at least Itachi tried to make the best of a bad situation, while Sasuke let it consume him.

Itachi didn't want to kill everyone for Sasuke this time. Hell, she didn't really want to kill everyone at all. She especially didn't want to kill Mikoto. Fugaku...she didn't want to kill him either, but Itachi admitted that she liked him less than his wife. And he was actually plotting a coup to take over the village, and Itachi supposed he sort of deserved to die for that.

It wasn't that she totally opposed to the idea of being a ninja, or of killing people who deserved it. And Itachi was probably better suited to the life of a child prodigy than an actual child, because she wasn't actually a child, so, really, it wasn't all bad. And she was an Uchiha, which meant that she'd inherit the Sharingan, which was totally cheating, and even if it wasn't, she was fucking Uchiha Itachi, which was definitely cheating.

But she would be a ninja, and therefore didn't feel all that bad about cheating. She could also probably prevent the massacre, by the simple virtue of not murdering her relatives at all.

And...as much as it might have seemed petty compared to everything else, Itachi was a boy. Again.

She'd really hated being a boy. And she'd pretty much reached the point where she wasn't one anymore. All of the time, and money, and hormones, and therapy...just gone. Back to square one.

Granted, Itachi was six again, so it wasn't all bad, because she could get an earlier start on all of this, but she was pretty sure that Fugaku wouldn't be okay with his star pupil and precious prodigy son telling him that he'd rather be a she. There was also no telling what kind of healthcare the Elemental Nations had for this kind of thing. Most of the things that could be done with chakra were extraordinary, yes, but the medicine of this time seemed heavily focused towards the military — and the military had no place for people like her.

Itachi dragged herself up, and wandered into the bathroom. She didn't have Itachi's signature tear tracks on this face yet, but she wasn't sure if that was simply because she was too young, or if she was actually less stressed than the real deal. It might have been both, but her face was smooth, young, and unlined. Thick, dark hair fell around darker eyes, tied in the back in a ponytail. Convincing Mikoto to let it grow a bit had been easy, as long as she took care of it

Other than that, Itachi looked like a kid, in that pre-pubescent sexless status of children. She was wearing the standard Uchiha male attire™, and therefore looked like a little boy, but that couldn't be helped. At least not yet. That was admittedly another reason that she strove to graduate as young as canon Itachi did — she would be legally an adult at seven. Itachi couldn't wait.

But the thing that made her smile — even it was a small, sad one — was the eyes. Itachi — and Sasuke, too, while on the topic — had Mikoto's eyes, big and vivid in a child's face, framed by thick dark lashes and glittering with unshed tears. She loved those eyes, and for reasons that had nothing to do with the Sharingan.

Itachi took a deep, shuddering breath. She didn't really have a plan for the future. She hadn't really known how to stop the Kyuubi. She had no clue how to prevent the Fourth Shinobi World War.

Itachi just wanted to survive, not massacre the Uchiha, and not to be a boy anymore.

It wasn't much to ask. Really. It wasn't.

The first step? She went to find her mother.

It wasn't hard. She wasn't in the house, but she was out back, in the garden. Mikoto liked to garden. Itachi thought that was her way of creating a private space — her garden was in the back, in a place away from training grounds.

"Mom?"

"Oh! Itachi," she said, as she straightened up and looked expectantly at her child.

"Hi," Itachi replied quietly. "Would you like some help?"

Mikoto just looked at her, confused. "What?"

"I would like to help with your gardening."

It was almost imperceptible, but Mikoto made a small movement as she moved her hands up to her mouth, before wiping the blood off her ubiquitous apron. Itachi couldn't control the grimace that flickered across her face. She was checking for a genjutsu? Huh. Was it really that weird, to ask to do something like gardening with her? Did she truly think her child didn't want to spend time with her that badly?

Itachi supposed it was, feeling a bit ashamed at the idea. It wasn't that she disliked Mikoto. She was a bit distant, and quiet, but she did care, though, and she showed that in her own quiet, understated way.

Unfortunately, that was kind of the problem. Itachi knew she'd been a jonin, and nobody gets to that rank by accident. But she also followed her husband's direction completely and unfailingly, and was pretty much the perfect housewife. She didn't really get her mother, and therefore suspected that her compliance wasn't completely willing. But that might not be totally fair to her father, so it was best to reserve judgement until she knew definitively either way.

And with Fugaku completely focusing on training Itachi the moment she showed signs of intellect, combined with the difficulty in recalling the memories of that previous life...Itachi had to admit she'd probably hadn't spent as much time with Mikoto as the woman deserved. Mikoto had forced an infant Itachi through her ladyparts in an hours-long ordeal full of blood, sweat, and tears. Itachi was understandably quite grateful for that, seeing as it meant that she was alive again. By that logic, she owed Mikoto like for ever.

And she had been much more reserved after the Kyuubi attack. Itachi remembered she was supposed to be friends with Kushina. She supposed that after losing her best friend, Mikoto didn't have a ton of people to lean on, anymore.

It wasn't that she wanted to learn anything about gardening, or flowers. Despite being admittedly jealous of all the girls in Academy classes, Itachi was admittedly not all that jealous of the flower arranging, knitting, and tea ceremony classes — the ones that taught how to act like a proper girl — they had to take. She admittedly was having trouble seeing the point to learning all those things, but that was probably one of those culture moments — if Itachi was going to learn how to infiltrate, it seemed best to do that in a class specifically designed for infiltration, not a general subject taught during adolescence.

But she was a boy, so, really, that was neither here nor there.

There was also the fact that one class specifically for one gender without an equivalent seemed kind of sexist, but really, there was enough about this society that seemed sexist that it wasn't a terrible surprise. Itachi had another pang of worry about the medical technology of this time, but she couldn't afford to worry too much about that. She'd face that when she graduated. She had time. It wouldn't matter until at least twelve, and she could probably get away with sixteen or so, at the latest. And she'd probably be a missing-nin by then anyway, so nobody would care what she did.

Mikoto collected herself, and then smiled. "Sure. I'm just planting some seeds and clearing out the debris from winter right now, so there's not a lot of gardening left to be done."

Itachi just nodded stiffly, and followed her directions to fetch her the seeds, and watched as she dug perfect small holes with earth jutsu.

"So how was your first day at the Academy?"

"It was...easy," Itachi replied. Mikoto cocked her head in response, silently imploring her to elaborate. "The majority of the things that we are learning this year are things I already know."

"Your father will be pleased," her mother said.

Itachi just hmm'ed, noncommittally. She was sure he would be, but a big part of the reason she was working so hard was that she wasn't terribly interested in spending a whole lot of time in school. Itachi knew all of the purely academic knowledge that wasn't historical, and that was easily learned — she'd always had a talent for remembering dates, and this life was no different.

There was also the fact that Uchiha Itachi was beyond talented.

The ninja arts — all of them — came as naturally to her as breathing, and Fugaku took the effort to make the most of this, of course, which was partly why this was really the first time she'd gone out of my way to spend time with Mikoto. It was both a blessing and a curse, really — she was supremely skilled for a six-year-old, but it came at the price of spending untold hours with her father to work on those skills, and losing out on the opportunity to socialize with her physical peers — or anyone outside of her clan.

Itachi's chakra reserves were low for an Uchiha, which was probably the only thing that could be remotely considered a weakness. Sure, there was the taijutsu, but it wasn't like Itachi was bad at taijutsu, she just wasn't stupidly good at it because of her physical limitations. Of course, lower than average chakra capacity for an Uchiha obviously meant respectable reserves by everyone else's standards, so 'weakness' was a relative term. Combined with very good chakra control, and the amount in her coils wouldn't become a weakness until probably jonin-level.

But she'd come here for a reason, even if that reason was little more than sowing the seeds.

"Mom."

Mikoto looked up. "Yes, Itachi-kun?" Itachi flinched a little at the honorific, even as she tried to hold her expression steady.

"You are a jonin," Itachi said softly.

"I am," Mikoto replied evenly. Sometimes it was tiring, these Uchiha word games, spending so much time talking around each other.

"Father insists on teaching me to become a ninja, but everything he talks about is how to fight. How to kill. Those come easily enough to me — taijutsu, ninjutsu, shuriken, ninja wire," Itachi said. She wasn't totally sure what she was trying to say, but this expression of frustration would at least let her discover just how her mother would react to the mention of somewhere Itachi disagreed with Fugaku. She needed to know if Mikoto would support Itachi against him, if it came down to it.

Itachi also wanted her mother to spend time with her, despite not wanting to admit it out loud.

Mikoto just turned, stopped, and raised an eyebrow.

Taking it as both a prompt to continue and a need for clarification, Itachi pressed onwards. "I...do not wish to learn solely from my father. And I do not think he would react well if I told him I wished to attend kunoichi classes." Kunoichi classes were theoretically possible for boys to attend. It just...wasn't done, and kids at six or eight were young enough that they weren't likely to insist enough to go against the established way of doing things.

Mikoto looked slightly flabbergasted. "You wish…to learn to be a kunoichi?"

Itachi smiled, and the expression came easily to her child's face. "No, Mom. It's not that. It's not about the classes themselves. Father keeps emphasizing getting stronger. So does the Academy. But when that Kumo-nin came, I couldn't beat him. He was much stronger than me, and I would have been at his mercy if you had not appeared and defeated him. What am I supposed to do if that happens again?"

She made a noncommittal noise, no doubt thinking of the same thing as her daughter — the sight of a pale-faced, trembling Itachi watching as Mikoto slashed the throat of a scarred Kumo ninja.

Itachi continued, "But you, you're a jonin of Konohagakure, and yet you didn't even need to use chakra to kill that man from Kumo. So, clearly, there is more to being a ninja than flashy jutsu or coming from a distinguished clan name."

Mikoto's eyes widened briefly, and Itachi wondered whether she'd gone too far, seemed too smart, assumed too much.

But then her mother smiled, a small, wry thing, and she said, "I suppose I could think about it, Itachi-kun." Itachi held back the instinctive wince this time. Then Mikoto looked thoughtful, before continuing, "I am not sure, though. I can offer no guarantees. You know your father treasures the time he spends with you." Itachi nodded. She did see that, but he was demanding in ways that took up all of their free time. Itachi wanted to be strong, but it wasn't something she wanted to share entirely with him.

"But why kunoichi classes?"

"It's not about the content, just that they teach you how to defeat opponents that are stronger than you. All I have learned is to be stronger than my opponents. I do not think I will always have that advantage."

She frowned, and Itachi held her breath. "You've thought about this quite a bit."

Itachi smiled, and handed her another seed.

Mikoto smiled a small, sad smile, where her child couldn't see, and said, "You know, if you wanted to spend time with your mother, you could just say so."

Itachi ducked her head, her cheeks burning, and sighed out a quiet, "Yes, mom."

* * *

"You are very quick, Itachi, and your use of the academy taijutsu is coming along very well. It is to be expected. You are, after all, a genius." Itachi nodded in assent. "There is little use in teaching you the Uchiha clan style until you have developed the sharingan, but I have faith that it will happen very soon."

There was no use arguing with him, and even less use saying anything about how much of an impostor she felt whenever he said those words to her. Everything came entirely too easy.

Of course, his praising of her abilities didn't stop him from absolutely crushing her in their brief spars, but then again, she was six. Six-year-olds are generally rather poorly matched against adults.

He came at her again, this time with a fast kick to the chest. For him, it was a low kick, and Itachi scooted to the side and tried to strike his knee. Speed was Itachi's strength, but she was so much shorter and facing an adult that it barely mattered, because she had no real effective way to close the distance in straight taijutsu. Without some kind of ranged weapon, it was an exercise in frustration.

That was kind of the point, though.

He snaked out and grabbed her wrist, but Itachi jerked and twisted away, retreating, before coming at him with a flying kick. She wasn't quick enough, and he flicked over to the left and avoided the strike.

He danced around as she tried to close with him for a few minutes, before he appeared behind her and put a hand on her neck, and Itachi stopped.

She glanced backwards for instruction, but he just nodded. Itachi couldn't decide whether that was better or worse than another comment about how his son was a genius.

Itachi was honestly sort of sick of hearing about it. She didn't feel very much like Itachi, the once-in-a-generation prodigy and pride of the clan. She didn't feel much like she deserved that kind of reputation, and had no idea if she'd be able to live up to the hype.

Fugaku, however, would hear none of that. Itachi was, after all, the heir and pride of the Uchiha clan.

He resumed his earlier statements, "Much of mastery in taijutsu comes from doing, not always from learning. I think I will have to find you a partner with similar skill. When is your test?"

Itachi responded, "In two days, Father." It was the truth. She wasn't worried about it, but it was part of the arrangement between the parents. Itachi was entering the Academy at the standard age, despite Fugaku wanting to enter her earlier, but at this point, a number of teachers from the clan, lead by her father, had spent the last two years instructing Itachi.

"You will advance to the graduating class."

"Yes, Father," Itachi replied. Of course, that's what he expected. And, to his credit, his pride wasn't unfounded. Those two years weren't wasted, and she really was far above the others of her age group.

"That's my son. Follow me." She held back the twitch as she did as he asked, and he guided them through the district, but not as if they were leaving, or going home.

Itachi didn't want to feel that fear, that, paralyzing, numbing fear in the face of her imminent death again, and, whenever she felt myself flagging or didn't want to get up in the morning, Itachi remembered the cruel, pitiless eyes of the Kumo-nin and the terrifying killing intent that he emitted. And that was often enough.

She was ready for the test, and thought it would be relatively easy to mirror the original Itachi's performance in the Academy, and graduate by seven. There was enough general knowledge that would be laughably easy, the history wouldn't be too hard — she'd spent some time focusing on that, to familiarize herself, when Fugaku actually let her read history books. Fiction was out of the question, like most every other 'frivolous' activity.

Once they arrived at the lake enclosed within the Uchiha district, he stepped up to the dock, and Itachi followed.

"We will work with throwing accuracy tomorrow, but for today, since you are officially an academy student, the time has come for you to start learn our clan's jutsu." Itachi nodded. He continued, "The Great Fireball Jutsu. As an Uchiha, you are not a true member of the clan until you can properly perform this technique. You will not master it today, but you will add it to your regular exercises."

"Ah."

Itachi wondered briefly whether Fugaku would even bother to make her learn her elemental affinity, or not, or just throw a fire jutsu at her because they were Uchiha.

"I will show you the handsigns, and then you will attempt to copy it. The technique is simple — focus your chakra through the handsigns, and visualize it rising with your breath."

Apparently trivial details like elemental affinities were for lesser mortals. Y'know, people who weren't Uchiha.

Fugaku raised his hands, and Itachi followed along as he went through the handsigns once slowly. Snake. Ram. Monkey. Boar. Horse. Tiger. It was easy to set the cadence in pairs of three, and she repeated it to herself once more, before gathering chakra and attempting the jutsu. The first time, she was able to focus the handsigns, and produced a fist-sized bit of fire. Her father nodded approvingly, gesturing her to continue.

The second time, she coughed up smoke, and spluttered uncomfortably. Fugaku looked impassive. The sensation vaguely reminded her of smoking cigarettes in a previous life, although the smoke was harsher, and it was coming up rather than going down.

Itachi waited a second, caught her breath, and tried again. And again. And again. Until, a quarter of an hour later, she gathered herself properly for the smoke, and breathed out a basketball-sized sphere of flame. She looked at Fugaku expectantly.

He smiled, a proud, pleased thing, and said, "That's my son." She steeled her expression to stop the almost reflexive wince at the gendered pronoun.

Itachi nodded, to acknowledge the compliment.

And Fugaku just folded his arms and gestured, "Again."

* * *

On the third day of the Academy term, Itachi quietly sat down under a tree in the yard, bento open at her feet. She munched carefully on the onigiri, attempting to find the optimum method for eating them with the proper ratio of rice and salmon. It was tough work, because it required biting in a precise order, starting around the edges and working her way up to the top.

She was so absorbed in the task of efficiently eating her lunch that she didn't even notice someone behind her until she spoke.

"Itachi-san?" Itachi whirled around, quietly cursing that someone had caught her off guard. There was a blue-haired girl standing there, clenching her hands nervously.

"That's me," the Uchiha responded.

"Ano...well, we were just wondering...would you like to have lunch with us?" the girl asked.

Itachi looked over to where she had come from. There was a small crowd of other girls who were watching the exchange. Itachi was torn. Part of her wanted to agree, because they were girls, and because she'd always felt more comfortable around girls, even if she felt she was intruding sometimes given her sex.

Boys were usually pretty simple and straightforward, and even if she did understand them, and how to get along with them, there was always that feeling like an itch in the back of her mind that she wasn't one. The interactions felt false, somehow, that she'd somehow tricked everyone, and it stuck there no matter how much she tried to ignore it.

But, another part of her felt like these girls in particular might be here, asking, because she was an Uchiha. And she wasn't sure if encouraging this kind of attention was a good thing.

Still, she was probably going to be in a different class, with a different lunch break after today.

So Itachi simply said, "Sure." And followed the blue-haired girl over to her friends.

Upon arrival, there was a great deal of giggling and whispering, and Itachi felt her face burn with embarrassment. It was...disturbing, to feel on display for so many adolescent girls.

The blue-haired one, Megumi, proved her bravery by addressing Itachi first. "Itachi-kun! Itachi-kun! We hear you're a prodigy..."

Itachi just eyed her. That wasn't a question. Or really a declarative statement. Still, "Well, yeah. That's what my father always says."

Cries of 'Oooh!' and squeals erupted from that announcement. Itachi had a sinking feeling in her chest at the implications of that.

Another, dark-haired girl spoke up at that, "Itachi-kun! What kind of foods do you like?"

"Well, I like cabbage," which definitely wasn't something she'd liked before, "and most kinds of sweets." Sweets, on the other hand, she did. Particularly pocky. Delicious, delicious, pocky.

And then, the questions began.

"What's your favorite color?"

"Maa, I like lots of colors. Red, and purple, and black, although that's technically a shade. I think my favorite color is brown, though."

"Oooh, Itachi-kun! What's your favorite hobby?"

"I enjoy training, and spending time with my little brother, Sasuke-chan."

"That's so cute! How many kids do you want when you grow up?" That was heading into dangerous territory. Still, Itachi wasn't sure what to say. Best, probably, to head this off if possible.

"I don't think I really want to be a father." There, literal truth, while misleading enough that they would take from it what she wanted. The girls weren't too concerned with a negative answer, though. Why let a little thing like reality influence the plan of your future life?

Of course, if the question about kids was only heading to places Itachi would rather it wouldn't, the conversation quickly devolved completely at that point.

This, of course, culminated in the question Itachi had been dreading since the start of the conversation, asked by the blue-haired girl, Megumi: "What kind of girls do you like, Itachi-kun?"

Itachi decided right then and there that it was her duty to both feminism and girlhood everywhere to attempt to head off fangirlism wherever it could be found.

So she answered, "I like strong kunoichi." Of course, it wasn't that easy. Itachi had figured that maybe if she made it clear that desirable boys liked girls for their strength, rather than their looks, she could influence the culture of fangirls enough that they spent their time training instead of obsessing. Of course, being mostly unfamiliar with the many-headed and supernaturally resilient beast that is the fangirl, Itachi thought it would be simple enough to mention that stronger ninja were more attractive.

But instead of some great revelation, all she got was more excited muttering, along with an exclamation of, "Like Tsunade of the Sannin?"

And Itachi agreed, that yes, she'd like to be with a strong woman like Tsunade of the Sannin, despite wanting to be a strong woman like Tsunade of the Sannin, and found herself not thirty seconds later wondering how and why every girl there seemed to have developed pigtails.

Did Tsunade wear pigtails in this past? Probably.

Was 'Itachi likes girls with pigtails' what everyone but her got from what she said? Yes.

Itachi just leaned back and uncomfortably resigned herself to dealing with the gulf between her and the rest of her lunchmates. Itachi couldn't help but think that she'd rather be a Megumi, even if it meant that she was shallowly obsessing over someone's favor, rather than Itachi, raised in a cold and distant clan weighed down by expectation. It wasn't a comfortable difference, and, for all her talent and prodigious skill, she couldn't quite figure out how go to about bridging the gap between those two extremes.

* * *

Itachi pushed again, despite the building ache in her legs, weighing her down more and more. She gasped through the run, pushing to keep the pace steady through the last lap around the district.

Running was a release, almost as much as it had been in her first life. She could let go of all the stresses of her life — the pressure of being called a 'prodigy.' It wasn't something that she'd ever experienced before. Itachi was very good under pressure, and she shouldn't be particularly nervous about not living up to expectations, but they were different when the world could be narrowed down to making a certain time around the compound. It was a different kind of pressure, a simple, primal desire to exert, to work harder, and she cherished the times that she could only focus on keeping a pace, and didn't have to deal with reality of her body, the expectations of her new family, or the fact that she was now isolated from everyone that she'd ever met.

Because, misanthrope and shut-in or not, she did miss the people from that other life.

It wasn't often, and she found herself forgetting details as time passed. And quietly, she mourned the fact that she wouldn't ever see that past again, and couldn't even remember how she'd arrived in this world. Racing through the trees, she mourned a life. Not a perfect life, but one that she had lived. The parents she remembered, the brothers she'd had, the friends she'd made.

Itachi didn't begrudge Fugaku and Mikoto much, but, in a way, she rarely felt a sense of family that was so prevalent in her past life. Fugaku was very much a busy man, resembling her first father, but he was also a Clan Head, and he tended to put clan duties above personal ones. Most of the time she spent with him, they were training. And Mikoto was...distant in ways she wasn't used to, although Itachi hoped to make strides there after her initial overture a few days ago. Sasuke was a baby, and Itachi couldn't help but remember that man that he grew to be in that story, and couldn't help but let that Sasuke color her opinion of him.

She didn't hate him, but she also didn't think she liked him much.

It wasn't the same. It wasn't bad, but to know one thing and be suddenly and inexplicably thrust into another…

It was easier to run.


	2. Sempai

"Today, we have a new member. Class 4A, meet Uchiha Itachi."

Itachi stared at the class of ten-year-olds. The class of ten-year-olds stared back.

"Oi! He's a midget!" Itachi had to bristle at that. There was a difference between being six and being a midget. And if she was sorely lacking the height she was used to in that other life, it was no one's damn business but hers.

But the vaguely familiar-looking brown-haired boy who'd spoken up from the back row wasn't done. "I mean it! Why are we getting a kid like that in our class! Look at him! Is he even old enough to go to the-"

"Enough, Iruka!" the teacher, a stern-faced, portly man with a pronounced limp named Hitsuji interrupted. "Uchiha-san is perhaps more qualified to be in this class than you. He is a prodigy, and did exceedingly well when we evaluated his skills yesterday, and thus has been allowed to skip ahead to the graduating class in the academy."

Iruka looked very much put out at that. Still, he stopped talking, even if he relaxed against the seat with his arms crossed, grumbling all the time.

Itachi marveled privately to herself at how much he actually resembled the Naruto she remembered. It was oddly...coincidental, that he ended up as Naruto's teacher, and Itachi wondered for a moment whether the Hokage had a hand in that assignment, He was, by all accounts, both sneaky and perceptive, so it wasn't outside of the realm of possibility.

The instructor pushed her forward. "Itachi, take your seat. We will begin today with a discussion of chakra. As it is the last year of the academy, our focus will shift towards ninjutsu." He paused, and Itachi found a seat amid the excited whispering that had erupted at that pronouncement.

Itachi was next to a purple-haired girl, near the middle of the classroom. Looking around, she didn't notice anyone that really stood out in her memories. She could see a pale-eyed blond boy that could be a Yamanaka, and another that was wearing the distinctive clothing — including sunglasses — of an Aburame. It wasn't nearly as an impressive class as the one Naruto graduated in, but that class had been packed with clan heirs. Another coincidence? Or authorial fiat?

Hitsuji cleared his throat, and asked, "Can anyone tell me the ninjutsu techniques that everyone is required to learn to graduate the academy?"

A few hands shot up, but for whatever reason, the teacher set his gaze on Itachi. She didn't volunteer anything, and he instead called on a black-haired girl in the front row.

She put down her hand, and answered dutifully, "They are the bunshin, the henge, and the kawarimi."

The teacher smiled, his curly white hair bobbing slightly. "Very good, Shiori-san. Now, someone else, tell me about these jutsu."

Itachi sort of zoned out at that point. She didn't want to hear about jutsu that she'd known about before she could talk. And it looked like Hitsuji was one of those teachers that liked to ask a bunch of questions, teasing out the answers instead of actually lecturing. Which, admittedly, wasn't a bad way of teaching, but he'd probably be stuck without clan students coming in knowing most of the material. But then again, he did seem to be leaning on that girl that had answered the first question, and she wasn't from a clan Itachi recognized. Although, with that coloring, she could be a Nara...

It was hard to keep focus when she already knew what they were going to say, almost like re-reading a very boring story. Fugaku had not skipped anything in the academy — in a way, she was almost being trained to pass the academy's test more than she was being trained to be an actual shinobi. Like most things when it came to clan politics, the clan head's first child being a prodigy was about showing power. So, if Itachi was a shinobi-in-training who looked slightly better on paper than she might function as a genin? It wouldn't matter, because she was six, surrounded by children who were ten, or eleven.

Besides, she was an Uchiha, and that was what the sharingan was for. It wasn't like she didn't have a doujutsu that basically cheated at life.

"Itachi-san? Do you know why?" Hitsuji's soft voice broke across her train of thought.

Itachi frowned, trying to keep her panic contained. She wasn't sure how well it was working, but Hitsuji was still smiling, so it probably wasn't bad. But then, the academy teacher didn't likely share Fugaku's stringent desire for Itachi to present a completely impassive, unruffled face in all things.

Still, why...they had still been talking about the academy three, were they not?

Itachi took a guess. "You mean, why we learn these jutsu now, sensei?"

The man's smile turned indulgent. "You could say that, Itachi-san. I was wondering why these three skills in particular were taught at the academy. Yuki-san has said that it is because they are easy, but I am not sure that is the complete answer. What do you think?"

Itachi had honestly expected a harsher reprimand, but, then again, this was a class of small children. Their attention was probably somewhat likely to wander.

She replied, "Is it because all three jutsu are useful, even to high-level shinobi?"

Hitsuji's eyes were practically closed, his smile was so wide. "I think so, yes. Even as a jounin, a technique like the kawarimi will still be useful in saving your life. Thank you, Itachi-san. Your answer was very good."

Itachi sighed, and relaxed into her seat. It was...interesting. Itachi hadn't been paying attention, and if that wasn't obvious to Hitsuji, she would eat her shirt, ridiculous Uchiha fan and all. But there was no reprimand there. None at all.

Itachi had to wonder...was it the clan name? Or could it be because she was a child genius? Either way, she wasn't particularly happy with the idea.

Clan genius or no, she didn't very much want to skate by on reputation, and didn't see how anyone would. Still, it didn't seem all that possible to make him stop, and there were obvious benefits. Itachi wasn't going to fool herself into thinking that she _really_ wanted him to stop. If he was going to let her zone out on lessons that she already knew, that was fine.

As much as she didn't want to, there was a significant part of her that almost resented the academy. Even if Fugaku could be demanding, he had genuinely prepared Itachi well in the two years since the instruction had stated in earnest. And sitting here, learning stuff all over again...felt something like a waste of time. Itachi had never been good with waiting around, and considering how strong the canon Itachi was, she had big shoes to fill.

Hopefully, physical activity would be better.

* * *

Umino Iruka followed his classmates outside for taijutsu practice, stuck with indecision. Hitsuji-sensei was such a jerk! He definitely deserved to have fish hidden on the underside of the desk in his office. There was no way he'd find that, not for weeks! Not if Iruka got one of those tins of sardines, and poked a few holes in it...it would be well-hidden enough to last, and get absolutely _nasty_.

But, if he did that, then he wouldn't be pranking the Uchiha brat. And if that bratty little monster thought he could waltz right in and show everyone up like that, he had another thing coming. Plus, the teacher hadn't even cared that he wasn't paying attention! If Hitsuji-bastard wasn't going to remind him that he was a squirt, that duty fell to Iruka.

If that little brat thought he was better than the rest of them because he was an Uchiha, or a prodigy, well, then the midget would regret that attitude, one way or another. Iruka had to think about it. Itachi would be hard to get at, because he was protected behind the walls of the Uchiha compound, so it would need to be during the academy. Which meant more surveillance. Iruka was nothing if not meticulous when it came to not getting caught for his pranks. The last thing he needed was to give the teachers an even worse opinion of him.

The physical activity teacher, an almost too-thin kunoichi named Yuuka, started the class on simple physical conditioning exercises. Laps around the yard, push-ups, pull-ups, crunches, the like.

At least, this was helpful. Physical conditioning always was. Iruka had failed the last year's graduating exam, so he was eleven instead of the usual ten. But, at ten, he hadn't been worried about graduating. Instead, he was much more worried about other things...like where he would live after his apartment was crushed, who would cook for him when his caretaker forgot. And then he didn't really know anyone anymore, so he made himself loud, and known for his pranks, so they _had_ to pay attention to him.

He hadn't bothered with the exam, and it had cost him. It was frustrating, because he _knew_ the stuff, he did! He could be a great shinobi, right now! But he had to wait a whole year to take the exam again. At least this kind of stuff was helpful, not like sitting through boring lectures!

And he could beat the kids that were all a year younger than him, at least at the physical stuff. And Mizuki had been helping him lately, and he was getting really good!

But no sooner had that thought crossed his mind when he realized that the six-year-old child prodigy was faster than all of them. The laps weren't really that much, and therefore more of a speed exercise than an endurance one, but that Uchiha kid was just so _fast_.

He'd beaten everyone by half a lap, easy.

It just wasn't _fair._ And he was entirely too good, too quick at the academy taijutsu kata they went over.

By the time the class was called together for taijutsu spars, he was fuming. This kid just came today and showed everyone up? Where did he get off? He got special treatment because of his _family._ That just didn't sit right with Iruka, who didn't have a family anymore.

He was in luck when the instructor called out the first match.

"Uchiha Itachi against Umino Iruka."

Academy spars weren't real fights. They were just brawls, introduced halfway through the academy curriculum as a competition to a number of points, with points given for contact. By the graduating year, points no longer mattered — it was a fight until someone was unconscious, incapacitated, or gave up.

Iruka _really_ wanted to knock Uchiha unconscious. He couldn't keep the grin off his face as he climbed onto the platform, across from the brat. Fast or not, Iruka could beat him. He had the size, the reach, and the age. The boy's clan symbol was emblazoned across the back of that dark-high collared shirt, taunting him, reminding of everything this kid had that he didn't.

If Iruka beat him, it meant those things didn't _matter._

They both formed the Seal of Confrontation, and Yuuka nodded at them to begin. Itachi fell into a defensive stance, watching Iruka.

Iruka stared back.

Itachi smirked.

The scarred boy broke first, charging forward, fist cocked back for a punch. Itachi sidestepped, and moved in — he was so fast — to hit Iruka back, but he managed to twist slightly out of the way. He still received a surprisingly hard jab in the ribs for his trouble, as he backed off, trying to put some distance between himself and the black-haired little terror.

Itachi surged forward then, and Iruka kicked out, hitting center mass, and sending Itachi barreling away from him.

The Uchiha was fast, but his size hindered him. Midget. Iruka could work with that.

The next time he tried a kick, however, he got a painful jab in the nose before the kid darted away.

It was like he was doing it on purpose, fighting in the most infuriating way possible!

The problem was that he was frustratingly reactionary. He just circled, letting Iruka make the first move, where he would use his superior speed to outmaneuver the bigger boy. He was obnoxious! It was like trying to hit one of those posts that bounced back and hit harder every time — there was no winning here.

So Iruka charged forward, swinging wildly, determined to show the little bastard who was boss. It wasn't purely rage, either — by doing this, he was forcing Itachi to play his game. If he just let the kid dance circles around him, and dictate the fight, there was no way he'd win.

Predictably, Itachi dodged the first blow, but the second preventing him from hitting back. Iruka kept it up, forcing him to dive out of the way with a kick, and then following it up with a haymaker to the face.

Itachi blocked that one, which was a mistake on his part, because Iruka's punch still drove through his guard, decking him in the jaw. The Uchiha stumbled back, slightly off-balance, and Iruka pressed his advantage, with a spinning kick.

That was his crucial mistake.

Itachi ducked gracefully under the kick. Iruka lost him for half a second as he followed through the kick. He had just braced himself against a punch when he felt the Uchiha's knee fly into his back, propelling him towards the ground. Stupidly, he flailed, trying to dislodge the brat, but Itachi grabbed his arm and twisted it around Iruka's back, holding him down.

It couldn't be over. Not like this.

Iruka growled, trying to tug his arm out of the younger kid's grip. In response, Itachi twisted it, painfully. Iruka slumped, unable to believe that he'd lost. Itachi could break his arm in the hold, which meant Iruka had to forfeit.

He refused to, though. Iruka was not going to lose to a slip of a kid half his age, prodigy or no. Humiliated, he felt his face light up in shame.

"Good fight, Uchiha-san, Umino-san." Iruka wasn't in much of a mood to accept the compliment, heartfelt or no.

Once Itachi released him, he stalked off the platform, moving back to the crowd. Hitsuji could wait; the Uchiha brat was the one getting pranked. As soon as possible, if he had anything to say about it.

* * *

Uchiha Fugaku was pleased to find his son dressed formally and waiting for him in his study when he got home from his job at the police station. He hadn't expected anything less, but that didn't stop the upsurge of pride at seeing him meet and then exceed every task set before him. His son was a genius, the kind that's not seen more than once in a generation.

Itachi would grow up to be the kind of shinobi that was talked about in the same terms as the Leaf's heroes — the Kage, the Sannin, even the Hatake brat that somehow ended up with his clan's famed doujutsu. Fugaku didn't doubt that Obito had entrusted it to him, but it was still concerning that the Sharingan was in the hands of someone not born to the Uchiha clan, even if it was given freely to an eminently capable and professional shinobi.

The secrets of the Uchiha's coveted kekkai genkai were jealously guarded for a reason, after all.

As galling as explaining that to the elders might have been, the debacle that was the aftermath of the Kyuubi attack was even worse. Fugaku had respected Namikaze Minato — a Hokage that was entirely neutral in clan politics could only help Konoha, and the man was ruthless when he needed to be, but he'd died when Konoha — and more importantly, the Uchiha — had needed him most.

And so, without the Yondaime's skill at diplomacy, the rumors had started. Rumors that the Uchiha had something to with the beast attacking Konoha, unfounded as they were, had reached the ears of the elders of their clan.

It was insulting.

Nevermind that Uchiha were the pride of Konoha, that their doujutsu was unmatched — no matter what those insufferable Hyuuga twins had to say about it — and their sons and daughters had fought and died for their village. No, forget all of those things.

The Uchiha had obviously done it, because Madara had purportedly once controlled it in a legendary fight against the Shodaime. If Madara had done it once in a legendary duel that at this point might be more fiction than fact, then clearly every Uchiha could do it.

Before he could work himself up into a proper tirade, his son distracted him. "Father, is everything alright?"

Itachi was incredibly observant, and for a half-second he regretted developing that particular trait, but it was quickly replaced by a warm glow of satisfaction.

Still, he collected himself, and said, "Nothing is wrong, Itachi. How was your first day in your new academy placement?"

His son frowned. Itachi hadn't quite mastered his facial expressions yet, so it was still relatively easy to read him. Something had displeased Itachi.

"I was placed in the graduating class, and will be able to take the next exam. The material does not particularly challenge me, and I am above-average in physical conditioning. When we had a taijutsu spar, I defeated an eleven-year-old boy named Umino Iruka." His son's tone was dispassionate, as if he was reading a grocery list. Another father might have concerned at how Itachi recounted his day at school like a mission report, but Fugaku was not. It was a little strange, but all the best shinobi were strange.

More than that, it meant that his son, for all of his youth, took his training seriously. The academy was just another form of training, and Itachi treating it like that would only help him in the future.

Fugaku said, "That is good. You've done very well. As always, I am proud of you." But something was bothering Itachi — something his son would not volunteer. He pressed on, "You are displeased about something."

Itachi started, very slightly. Fugaku didn't quite smirk, but he could feel his lip curling. He could still surprise his genius son.

Itachi responded, "I am...uncomfortable with the blatant favoritism that is shown to the clan by the instructors."

Fugaku wasn't expecting that. "That doesn't seem like much of a problem."

A nod. "True. It is advantageous. It's not the teachers that are the problem, though. It's the students." His son frowned heavily as he said, "Or rather, the students' reaction to the teachers' favoritism. When I defeated that boy, he was humiliated. But it was made so much worse by the fact that I am obviously being set up to succeed. I will not endear myself to them this way."

Fugaku raised his eyebrows. "If they are blinded by something so small, they are not worth your time, Itachi. You cannot help but succeed."

Itachi nodded again. He said, "But some of them will be my future teammates. I would prefer a working relationship with my future genin team."

"Do not concern yourself with them right now. Worry about that when the time comes. For now, we both must concern ourselves with the Elders. Are you ready?"

Itachi uttered a quiet, "Yes, Father," and schooled his features.

The knock on the door of his office sounded, and he flared his chakra, allowing them entry.

Uchiha Katsumi, Osamu, and Akira shuffled through the door. The elders. They exchanged greetings, and arranged themselves around the low table, across from Fugaku and Itachi.

Fugaku and the elders went through the required pleasantries for a while, exchanging meaningless small talk, as was polite.

It was Katsumi that brought up the pressing issue for the meeting.

"How was your day at the academy, Itachi?" Left unsaid was the question, 'and how did you do?'

Itachi was very much ready for the inquisition, however, and replied, "It was acceptable. I was introduced to the graduating class, and defeated one of my sempai in a taijutsu spar."

Katsumi looked pleased at that, but the ever-grumpy Akira grouched, "You are able to keep up with this class?"

"Yes, Akira-sama. The instruction today covered topics that I have already learned from both my father, and the clan."

"Hn," grunted Akira. But that was nothing new.

"And you are able to continue to take instruction from the clan?" Katsumi pressed.

Itachi responded affirmatively again, and before the elders could move, Fugaku interjected, thinking of his son's earlier concern about his classmates, as well as their recent results in taijutsu, "I have thought that Itachi would benefit from learning from someone close to his own age. I propose that we ask Uchiha Shisui if he would be willing to spend some time with Itachi."

The elders exchanged glances, and Osamu spoke in his deep, rumbling voice, "We see no problem with this arrangement. If this is your desire, Fugaku-sama, then so be it."

Fugaku nodded, and looked to Itachi. "Go and work on your schoolwork. I will join you later."

Itachi, stood, bowed, and left the room.

When he was gone, Katsumi said, "Your son continues to impress, Fugaku-san. You are sure he will graduate in a year?"

"I am," he responded. Itachi would live up to the challenge. He always had, after all.

"The boy is committed. He does us all credit," Osamu claimed. "Perhaps, when he is ready, I shall teach him what I know of fuinjutsu, if he shows himself to have an aptitude for it."

Akira snorted, "If you must."

Osamu merely raised a brow.

"Tch. Anyway, Fugaku-kun. Your heir is adequate, but we must discuss the _rumors_ that we have been hearing around the village," Akira sneered.

Fugaku responded mildly, "You mean the claim that it was an Uchiha that released the Kyuubi on the village?"

Katsumi said, "Surely they are not serious. Such a thing is preposterous. We are the Leaf's most important clan, after the downfall of the Senju."

Osamu rumbled, "Humans are foolish creatures. The Kyuubi ravaged our homes, and it is easy to look for something to blame. Has there been anything more than whispers, Fugaku-sama?"

Akira scowled, harshly. "You mean to say that when Inabi was passed up for promotion to chuunin last month, that had nothing to do with it?"

Katsumi scoffed, "Inabi was passed up for promotion because he's an overconfident brat. He's not ready to be a chuunin. But one could take our relocation to the corner of the village, into a walled-off compound, as a sign of distrust."

Akira sneered at her. "Or one could take it as the Uchiha finally getting the respect they deserve."

Fugaku cut in, before the bickering could get any worse. "I do not have anything substantial, no. But these rumors will not die down by themselves. If we still had the Fourth...but he is dead. I have brought this up with Sarutobi, but he has failed to quell the rumors as thoroughly as he has failed to keep the existence of the jinchuuriki a secret."

Akira, however, latched onto the change of topic easily. "Sarutobi is a sentimental old fool."

Osamu said mildly, "Sarutobi is old, yes. To take the hat back up is a noble thing, but he is tired."

"Yes, of course," Fugaku placated. "Now, we must talk finances of the Military Police…"

* * *

It only took a day after the meeting with the clan elders for Shisui to come bounding into Itachi's life. With Shisui, that expression was quite literal. He was apparently incapable of walking like a normal human being.

Fugaku had told Itachi to head home immediately after school, where she'd be meeting her new sparring partner and sometimes-tutor. It was so very soon after the elders had agreed to the proposition, but Itachi wasn't terribly surprised. When it came down to it, Itachi's training was her father's first priority.

It was his way of showing he cared. He was a busy, self-involved man, but he truly did love her. He wasn't the kind of man who lent himself well to demonstrative, outward shows of affection. But as soon as she mentioned she was worried about connecting with her peers, he found her a similarly-aged, and, perhaps more importantly, similarly-skilled, practice partner.

And while Fugaku was sometimes unreasonably demanding, Itachi would be delusional if she believed that those elders weren't tougher on him than they were on her. He was juggling expectations, and those would inevitably be shunted onto his heir.

If Itachi had truly been a child, she might have been able to see it, but she could not deny that the clan had its hand in everything, including a father's love.

So, Itachi found herself stepping into the kitchen after school to find a wildly grinning Uchiha, forehead protector pushing up the short dark hair that was the hallmark of their clan. Shisui was around eleven or twelve, clearly a new genin, dressed in a high-collared dark shirt with the Uchiha fan on the back.

It was sort of bizarre, how much he was smiling. Uchiha as a rule were very...restrained in their expressions.

Shisui brightened up immediately on seeing Itachi, jumping forward and bowing enthusiastically. "Hello, Itachi-san. I am Uchiha Shisui, and Fugaku-sama told me that you would benefit from a training partner?"

"Yes, Shisui-san," Itachi agreed. "Please take care of me." She couldn't help but quirk a small smile at the expression, one that was perfectly polite in this language, but a double entendre in another one.

Shisui saw her small grin, and beamed. "Oh, that's wonderful! Itachi-san! Please! Tell me that you have a sense of humor, unlike the rest of our clan!"

Itachi steeled her expression, forcing her voice to come out evenly when she said, "I, unfortunately, do not."

Shisui answered with a pout that looked so comically exaggerated on a preteen that she could help but quirk a smile.

He grinned, widely, and exclaimed, "Ha! That's a good one. I'm sure we'll get along just fine, Itachi-chan!"

Itachi paled at the honorific, feeling disconcerted. Did Shisui somehow know? No, that was crazy. There was nothing to give her away. he was just teasing. He _had_ to be. He had to like her before he could know.

Her cousin blithely continued on, "Don't make that face, Itachi-chaaaaaaan."

Itachi had to deflect before he noticed anything about her reaction. She asked, "Why must you call me that?"

"But you're just so cute! Like a little baby ninja!" Itachi scowled furiously, which led to Shisui crowing with delight. "I knew I'd get a rise out of you somehow."

The Uchiha heir gritted her teeth. "Aren't we supposed to be getting together for training?"

"Right, right. Fugaku-sama said that you could do with sparring someone who's more your size and can keep up with you."

"That would be nice, Shisui-san," Itachi replied.

"Excellent!" he grinned. "If you're free right now, we can start today."

Itachi bowed, "Yes. My father told me I should keep my afternoon free."

Shisui beckoned, "Then grab your stuff and follow me!"

Itachi took a second to put her school supplies in her room, and grabbed an extra pack of practice kunai, but was soon trailing an excited Shisui through the district.

The district was set in a far-away corner of Konoha, literally covered with the clan's famous uchiwa fan, from banners, to doors, to walls, to even the water tower. It was similarly populated by dark-haired, dark-eyed, and porcelain-skinned people, most of them shinobi, but with a fair number of civilians. This change had been relatively new — the old district had been less dense, and much nearer to the center of the village. It also didn't have a giant wall around it, like the inhabitants were in time-out.

This one, however, was newer, more isolated, and filled with exclusively Uchiha. It was certainly imposing, and as it was bisected by the Naka River, no one could deny that it was not prime real estate, if somewhat remote. Whether this was an improvement or not, Itachi couldn't say. She hadn't been old enough to really get a good feel for the older district, but this one, minus her companion, did seem less lively.

It was certainly more insular, and any outsider would stick out like a sore thumb. Shisui certainly did, but it wasn't because of his looks.

Her older cousin was almost infectious with his enthusiasm, calling out excited greetings to everyone he saw. The residents returned his greetings with surprising levity, for Uchiha. Itachi couldn't help but get caught up in the mood, feeling a grin form on her face almost involuntarily.

Shisui was good for the clan, in ways that she hadn't expected. He was wild, unrestrained, and didn't take himself seriously at all, which was far from the norm in such a reserved clan. But he was genuine about his energy, and thus, it was very hard to say no to him.

When they went to pass the senbei shop, Shisui dragged Itachi right up to the open-front store, to her chagrin.

Teyaki and Uruchi, the couple that owned the shop, greeted Shisui enthusiastically when he barged up to them.

"Shisui-kun! How are you this fine spring day? And Itachi-kun! We're honored to have such fine members of the clan at our humble shop."

"Hello, Teyaki-san, Uruchi-san!" Shisui greeted. "We're on our way to the training grounds."

Teyaki grinned. "Oh, I'm sure. I hear congratulations are in order, Itachi-kun."

Itachi nodded, her smile slipping. "Thank you."

"Well, how bout when you kids are done, you stop in here and get some senbei? It'll be on the house."

Shisui jumped on that chance. "Of course, Teyaki-san! We'll be there. But we've gotta go, Itachi-chan. Can't be wasting time visiting."

Itachi felt her eyebrow twitch. "But you were the one that wanted to come here."

"Don't lie. It's unbecoming of an Uchiha," Shisui scolded as he dragged her away. "Bye Teyaki-san! Uruchi-san!"

Itachi just spluttered incoherently, trying to keep up with Shisui's longer legs.

The Uchiha had a number of private training grounds, as part of the district. There weren't many, and they weren't terribly large, but it helped contribute to the isolation of the Uchiha. Even if the Uchiha could use other training grounds, it was incredibly more convenient to simply practice within the district.

Shisui took them to the furthest, and largest ground, almost outside of the village, filled with lust forest, the legacy of the first, and on the banks of the Naka river.

Shisui sat down, plopping himself on the ground, gesturing for Itachi to do the same.

He started first, "Now, Fugaku-sama told me that you need me to help the most with your taijutsu."

Itachi nodded, and said, "Yes, Shisui-san. Fighting against Father is helpful, because I do need to learn how to defeat adult opponents, but the members of the academy are below my skill level."

Shisui smiled, and replied, "Well, Itachi-chan, we can certainly do that. But first," and here his smile turned a bit predatory, "You have to call me sempai."

Itachi had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Shisui wouldn't care, but it was harder to break bad habits if she indulged in them when he wasn't around.

"Fine," she acknowledged.

"You haven't learned any of the Uchiha styles, right?"

"No. I have been learning a variation of the Academy style."

Shisui waggled his eyebrows and said, "Alrighty, then! Which one? It's probably the one based on speed, right?"

Itachi frowned, but nodded. She hadn't been aware that there were different ones, but didn't like to admit that she didn't know something. It happened rarely enough that she didn't often have to.

"...Fugaku-sama didn't tell you, did he?"

Itachi nodded again, feeling her cheeks burn. She had hoped he wouldn't catch that.

"Ahh, don't worry about it, Itachi-chan. It's not like there are really styles, more like variations on one style. It's just that the clans mostly focus on different stuff. We focus on speed, because the Uchiha style lends itself well to that. Unofficially, there's a 'light' style and a 'heavy' style. Fugaku-sama probably taught you more of the 'light' style, which is speed over power. 'Heavy' would be vice-versa, but you're probably not going to have a strength advantage, because you're so skilled. Your opponents are going to be older than you, more often than not."

"I see," Itachi agreed. That made sense. She was planning on being more of a speed shinobi than a strength one, after all.

"Alright, though, that's enough blabbing. Let's fight!" Shisui yelled, and hopped upright.

As soon as Itachi followed, Shisui launched into a blindingly fast kick that caught Itachi off-guard, landing in her gut, and sending her back to one knee a few feet away. That was likely to bruise in the morning. Itachi bounded up, and noticed that Shisui had his sharingan activated. She was impressed — he couldn't be any older than twelve, and he already had two tomoe in both his eyes.

Itachi picked herself up, and waited for him to come at her again. He did, feinting with a jab, and socking her across the nose with his other hand, faster than she could react.

Shisui stepped back as she regained her equilibrium, and said, "Don't wait for me to come at you. I'm always going to be faster that way."

It was quite galling to admit that he was right. Shisui was that much faster than Itachi, when she had prided herself on speed as her best trait.

"Of course, Shisui-sempai," Itachi said.

Shisui grinned, and in that time, Itachi attacked, first with a jumping roundhouse kick. He caught it, and she twisted in midair off his had, to bring the other leg into a delayed drop-kick, but he dodged to the right to avoid it, and Itachi was forced to let herself fall, which Shisui used to kick her away.

Itachi slid to a stop a meter or two away, grunting.

"Better," Shisui said, smirking.

Itachi grinned, and went at him again. She wasn't quick enough to beat him, and he was definitely stronger, but Itachi could tell that he was slightly pulling his punches, in order to be a mildly superior opponent.

It was...exhilarating, in a way that neither sparring with Fugaku, or the two brief matches with the other academy students had been. Iruka had been easy — she had held back a bit in order to help him salvage as much of his pride as possible, because she'd felt bad for taunting him, and the kunoichi that she had faced earlier in the day had been nothing short of pathetic.

But against Shisui, Itachi was well and truly challenged. He was also young enough that it didn't feel like climbing a mountain to fight him, and was so obviously enjoying himself that Itachi found herself caught up in his infectious cheer. She scored half as many hits as him, and he clearly hadn't let her get all of them, and he tried to punish her for being too passive — something that she knew she was guilty of, sitting back and relying on her speed to counter her opponent.

After a quarter of an hour of straight up fighting, Itachi was panting heavily, and slowing down noticeably. Shisui called a stop, and she let herself flop to the ground, exhausted. She was tired and frustrated. Her stamina was downright pathetic. Shisui barely looked winded.

"Come on now," he called. "None of that. You need to stay standing, keep your lungs working. Up you get."

Itachi took his offered hand, forcing herself both to stand up despite the burn, and to fess up to weakness. "That's...one of my...other problems...low stamina."

Shisui raised an eyebrow. "I see that. We can work on that, for sure. Now, for the fight. You definitely fight smart — you press advantages, and take good risks, and you don't let an opening go, but you're too passive. Right, I mentioned that," he explained, hand on his chin.

Itachi nodded along. This was useful critique, and she wasn't happy about losing, but this was how she improved. It was just a spar — it didn't _really_ matter.

Shisui continued, "But something else — you have a tendency to sacrifice technique for speed — which isn't a huge problem, and it's probably not been a big issue for you so far, because you're almost as fast as me, and I'm faster than about half the chuunin around here. So you're definitely faster than the brats at the academy, and it doesn't really matter when you have that big of an advantage. But later on, that's going to come back to hurt you."

"Fine, Shisui-sempai," Itachi said tightly.

"You're pretty competitive, huh, Itachi-chan?" Itachi scowled, and nodded.

"Okay, then. I have an idea," Shisui said, gesturing over to a grove of trees, with targets in different places. "Let's play a game, and you can rest a bit. We'll go over some katas in between games."

"Alright," Itachi agreed.

"Now, this game is pretty simple. We'll start with kunai, for now. Let's say...you get two points for hitting the inner ring, and three for the bulls-eye. If you just hit the target, you only lose one point, but if you miss completely, it's minus three. We'll trade off. Pick a target, and you start."

Itachi's eyes widened with glee. "What are we playing to, sempai?"

"Oh, first game...let's play to a hundred."

_Thunk._

"Ooooh, okay, Itachi-chan, so that's how you wanna play it."

It was the first time Itachi was late for dinner in this new life — scarfing down the last of her senbai, so Mikoto wouldn't catch her and scold her for ruining her appetite.


	3. Pressure

Itachi winced slightly as she got up from the table at dinner that evening. Shisui had kicked her in the ribs, repeatedly, and she knew she was going to have an absolutely nasty bruise tomorrow. She wasn't looking forward to it. It hurt to breathe _now_ , and she was sincerely hoping that she'd be able to get to sleep tonight — otherwise tomorrow would be that much worse.

To her surprise, Mikoto hadn't been all that concerned that she showed up late to family dinner. She had expected her mother to be annoyed, but Mikoto had only smiled indulgently and sat her down next to Sasuke, who was making a grand mess of his dinner, spilling bits of food all over himself, the table, and his clothing. It was pretty cute, and Itachi had smiled indulgently at him. Little tyke. Fugaku had merely grunted, and nodded at her. He'd also disappeared into his study almost as soon as he'd finished eating, leaving his wife to clean up.

Itachi had trouble letting her do everything. It was expected, and he knew that she enjoyed doing it for her family, but Itachi had been self-sufficient in that previous life. There was no reason she couldn't at least pick up after herself. So when Mikoto gathered up a messy Sasuke and started to clean his face, Itachi rose and wordlessly began clearing the table.

After Sasuke was sufficiently cleaned and settled, Mikoto joined Itachi at the sink.

Itachi couldn't quite disguise the stiffness in her movements from the bruise on her chest. She hadn't gotten a chance to look at it yet, but she imagined it was going to be painful in the morning.

Her mother, however, noticed.

And in typical no-nonsense Mikoto style, she wanted to know what was wrong with one of her children. "Is everything alright, Itachi?"

Itachi didn't want to tell her mother that she'd gotten injured because Shisui had no qualms about beating the crap out of her in taijutsu. Fugaku was generally much gentler, but he was a grown man and if he used his full strength to hit her, it would be less 'training' and more 'brutalizing.' Itachi didn't want to stop practicing with Shisui because of her injuries, and Mikoto could be overprotective on occasion. If it was Fugaku, he wouldn't have cared.

So she just dissembled, "I'm fine, just a little sore."

Mikoto's eyes narrowed. Itachi gulped.

"So there's nothing wrong?"

Itachi was wary, but responded, "...I'm fine."

Then Mikoto just poked her, hard in the ribs. Itachi doubled over in pain, gasping for breath.

"So you're fine, huh? Take off your shirt." Itachi squirmed away, but her mother had firm grip on the hem of said shirt, and her child-wrangling skills were nothing to sneeze at. A short, one-sided wrestling match commenced, which almost entirely consisted of Itachi trying in vain to escape, and Mikoto undressing a wriggling six-year-old. Granted, Itachi was a ninja-trained six-year-old, but budding prodigy or no, she was ultimately powerless in the face of her mother's insistence.

Once the shirt was off, and Mikoto was staring at a lurid purple bruise that covered a whole side of her ribcage, Itachi winced. This was not ideal.

Mikoto asked, "Why did you try to hide this?"

Itachi shrugged, and said, "I enjoyed training with Shisui-sempai, and I was worried that if you knew I came back injured, you might not want me to train with him again." Itachi let her eyes drop to the floor. It was foolish and childish to hide and injury like that. It sounded fine in her head, but now that Mikoto had cornered her about it, repeating that excuse seemed wholly inadequate.

Itachi could feel her cheeks burning in shame. Mikoto was a jounin, of course she knew about training injuries, and she'd probably know how to fix it, so Itachi could be properly ready for morning exercises, the academy tomorrow, and the after-academy training from the rest of the Uchiha.

Her mother just sighed, and questioned, "Well, how did you expect to train with Shisui-sempai in the future if you hide it when you're injured?"

Itachi couldn't argue with that. She felt silly. She was an exceedingly capable student, and she could generally pick up anything within a try or two, and, as such, she was very poorly accustomed to not understanding things.

As such, simple mistakes like this were compounded because she _should have known better_.

"I don't know, Mom," Itachi said, feeling mortified.

Mikoto's stern mien softened, and she huffed something exasperated under her breath that sounded suspiciously like ' _boys_.' Itachi bristled, vehemently — if silently — disagreeing with that sentiment. Her apparent inability to admit to weakness was something that had nothing to do with gender, thank you very much.

Mikoto said, "Itachi, I'm not mad. You just don't need to do everything by yourself. You're growing up so very fast, and soon you're going to be a ninja. But I'm still your mother. And even when you're a jounin, I'm still going to look after you. Now, hold still."

After this pronouncement, Itachi was confined to sitting at the table while Mikoto disappeared for a moment, reappearing with a tub of something goopy, and vaguely foul-smelling. She then proceeded to smear it all over Itachi's bruised chest, which left her feeling cold and vaguely uncomfortable.

She remembered having actual breasts, and thus, being shirtless was closer to nudity than she felt comfortable with. But that was not something that she could really change, because she didn't have breasts, and wouldn't be growing them anytime soon in this body. Which was something that she wanted to change, of course, but that didn't help the fact that it still felt totally weird to be standing in the kitchen without a shirt.

Once her bruises were properly slathered, and her clothing returned, Mikoto picked up the jar of stuff — bruise paste, maybe — and stared at it, thinking. Itachi just waited, curious.

Her mother said, "I could teach you a few things, starting with how to make this, if you'd like."

Itachi understood, all of a sudden. She contemplated the paste for a minute, thinking. It wasn't necessarily what she had in mind, but that was sort of the point — she'd asked, because she hadn't really known how to prepare herself beyond getting faster, stronger, or learning more jutsu.

Itachi nodded. "I would like that very much."

"Good," Mikoto said triumphantly. "But you're going to have to promise me something before I teach you anything."

The Uchiha heir tensed, wary. "What's that?"

"I want you to promise that you won't hide any more injuries from me, regardless of who they're from."

Itachi smiled wryly at her mother. She really couldn't argue with that logic, and it was best to accept defeat gracefully.

"Of course, Mom."

Mikoto smiled in response, and began to explain, "This is a medicinal cream that's most useful for bruises, but it also serves as a general pain reliever, and mild disinfectant. It's useful for most minor injuries, but against large wounds or broken bones, you'll need something stronger."

"That does sound useful," Itachi agreed.

"It is. So, first thing's first, you're going to find out exactly what your mom keeps in her garden."

* * *

Itachi rolled over, the blankets twisting around her body, feeling entirely too warm. She couldn't sleep, and the hot, stifling summer was helping very little. Months after entering the academy, she was thoroughly and entirely bored with the place. Between her father's continued tutelage, and regular sparring sessions with Shisui, and Mikoto's occasional, spontaneous lessons in the subtler side of shinobi life, she was progressing rapidly. Itachi was confident that at this point that she could pass the exam, but she was still some time away from getting anywhere near graduation.

And graduation had never looked sweeter, despite the fact that it meant she'd be expected to kill for Konoha. Her earlier comments to her father about the academy had unfortunately rung true.

It was frustrating, because Hitsuji, and to a lesser extent, Yuuka played obvious favorites with her. On one hand, it was very much a good thing that her teachers acknowledged that she was ahead of the class — to the point where she was a heavy favorite for Rookie of the Year. On the other, the jealousy that had been simmering under the surface on the first day, particularly among students who had lost people to the Kyuubi, namely, one Umino Iruka, had worsened.

Itachi realized that part of it came from the whispers that the Uchiha were involved in the Nine-Tails' rampage, but that was sort of a moot point, because there was enough reason to be jealous of her without insidious whispers about her clan — she was the supremely gifted heir to what was arguably the village's most prominent clan, and the teachers obviously favored her. The Uchiha had the edge over the Hyuuga because they had helped found Konoha, and they had more than one person alive bearing the name, unlike the Senju. And that was before one mentioned the sharingan. Everyone wanted that doujustu, and if they didn't, they were probably lying.

It was ultimately a double-edged sword, because while it made topping the academy rankings a breeze, it was seriously cramping any kind of friendship vibes she was sending out.

Not that she really wanted to make friends with ten-year-old brats. And even knowing that he would eventually become the first person to truly acknowledge Naruto, Itachi was seriously considering murdering Iruka. They'd never find the body. He'd set himself up as Itachi's rival, and consistently tried to outperform her in everything. The Uchiha truly did not care, but he persisted. It was ultimately admirable, very much so, but that didn't make it less annoying.

And even if she did develop an urgent need to make a ton of friends, there was the fact that Itachi didn't really know how to interact with children, her own age or otherwise. It wasn't that she was incapable of adapting to being a child again, but she'd spent so much time in training with Fugaku or other adults in the Uchiha clan that she really hadn't socialized with her peers. Not that Itachi really was a child again — with all the things she dealt with from day to day, she was really just a tiny adult. She'd never been the most socially aware person — in that other life she'd been clever and well-adjusted enough to fake it convincingly — but here, there was no real recourse. She was used to adults, and these children weren't really the same, not when they were really just that — children.

She really didn't want to think about fangirls, either, because while there were considerably less of those in her class, that didn't necessarily mean that they didn't exist. Megumi of the blue hair was probably the most zealous, but there was a smattering of girls that considered Uchiha Itachi the height of cool, and Itachi was completely stymied at the prospect of coming up with a response to such behavior other than fleeing on sight.

Shisui found this hilarious. Itachi, less so.

She was ever thankful, however, for Shisui, because that boy was pretty much the only real friend she had. She got on fine with Fugaku and Mikoto, but they were her parents — the relationship was different. And Shisui made training fun — he was the ideal friend for her because he was older, and skilled enough that she couldn't easily surpass him, like she could with most of her peers, but he was still very much a child, and he could coax out the child in her in way that nobody else could. He had a fantastic sense of humor, and reminded her very much of an old friend from that other life.

Interactions with her father were very much stained with the expectations of the clan, interactions with her mother had the polite distance of two people that did love each other but ultimately felt like strangers, interactions with her classmates were steeped in her genius and their ages. Interactions with Shisui consisted of him incessantly teasing her, him calling her _Itachi-chan_ — even if she had to pretend to be annoyed by it — and contests of increasing complexity between two equals. It was bliss.

But while these things were undoubtedly stressful, the thing that was truly keeping her up was the ultimate fate of that other Uchiha Itachi, the one from that story. Itachi got up out of her bed and padded to the door of the room, sliding it open. It was dark enough that her nightvision was very good, and she knew the house well enough to navigate it with ease.

She slipped into a darkened room, moonlight from the open window illuminating the still form in the tiny crib, pudgy little hands grasping at white sheets.

The Uchiha would plot to overthrow the Sandaime, and Danzou would be there to order the entire clan dead. And that other Itachi was there, torn between duty to his clan and duty to his village. He'd made that impossible choice and killed everyone except Sasuke. He'd killed everyone for Sasuke. Itachi couldn't even consider such a thing, as, looking at the tiny baby, she couldn't muster up that undying, boundless devotion that that other Itachi had for his little brother.

Going along with things that had happened in canon was a moot point, because she didn't think she was capable. Which meant that she had to somehow prevent things from coming to a head.

She had no idea where to start.

So she had found herself sleepless, standing before her little brother's crib. He looked so small and innocent, with no idea of the kind of world he was born into, the man he might grow up to be. It was a fate that she decidedly wanted to avoid for him.

The first thing was making sure she had her facts straight.

She suspected that Danzou might have already begun moving against the Uchiha, and she suspected that the Sandaime had no part in the massacre.

Those were things she didn't _know_.

She knew that that other Itachi had slaughtered the clan, and that the Uchiha would plan a coup to seize power when the unrest that came from the Kyuubi attack came to a head.

She also knew the Shisui would lose his eye to Shimura Danzou, who lusted after the Uchiha's kekkei genkai. He had already stolen a number of sharingan eyes and the Mokuton, and Shisui would jump off the cliff to prevent anyone else from getting access to his eye's potent genjutsu, which had a long name that she couldn't remember.

She knew that that other Itachi would then go on to join Akatsuki, go nearly blind, and contract a terminal lung disease before being killed by Sasuke, before the latter learned the truth of the Massacre.

She knew that Danzou was ultimately the instigator of the massacre, and that Itachi had carried it out to guarantee Sasuke's safety.

But what she wanted…

Itachi wanted none of that dreadful massacre to happen, none wanted none of the Uchiha to die. She wasn't so foolish as to believe that it would be easy, but it would be equally foolish to accept it as a foregone conclusion.

Itachi would aim for such a thing, for a complete obviation of the coup, but she would bring backup plans among backup plans. The only bad contingency plan was one you needed, but didn't have.

If she could not prevent it altogether, she would ensure that Danzou suffered for his culpability, because she had no desire to let him walk around with Shisui's eye like he had a right to it. Danzo would not menace Konoha any more, if she got her way.

Of course, even if disaster was averted, he might have to be dealt with. It might even be necessary in order to ensure that the ideal resolution was possible. Actually, getting rid of Danzou was honestly doing Konoha a favor. Really, the man caused more problems than he solved.

Either way, Itachi had no desire to let the old man get his hands on any part of Shisui, or, for that matter, any Uchiha ever again.

Sasuke stirred, and whimpered slightly in his sleep. It snapped Itachi out her thoughts, and she leaned down to brush his hair back from his face. He leaned into her touch slightly, and Itachi felt her lips twitch into a smile at that reaction. He really was cute.

Speaking of cute children, if she did have to kill everyone, she intended to refuse to kill anyone who hadn't actually conspired, notably the children. Sasuke. He whimpered again, and she stroked his cheek.

Itachi wondered how she was going to handle it all. This was waaay worse than that thesis she'd been working on.

"Fuck," she said. That pretty much summed up the whole situation.

* * *

Itachi stood in one of the Uchiha training grounds, specifically, the smallest and closest one. In a way, it was more for events like this than actual training, because it was small and near the center of the district. It reminded her more of a village green than anything, really.

So while clan members did genuinely use it for the purposes of training, it was right in the middle of the entire clan, and any training that happened there would inevitably be the kind of training that the rest of the clan was privy to. So most training that happened there was more 'doing things that are already perfect to show off' rather than 'hone necessary skills' or 'try new things.' It also didn't help that it was near the senbei shop. Hence, it was more an informal meeting place than anything else.

When the clan head's firstborn wanted to show her father that she'd mastered the signature clan fire technique, it was kind of a big deal. Hence, when Fugaku, Itachi, and Mikoto carrying baby Sasuke left the house to go to that particular training ground, the rest of the clan wanted to see what was up. Shisui turned up about halfway through the district, and by the time they arrived, even the crotchety old Elders were watching. Needless to say, it was quite the turnout.

Fugaku apparently couldn't resist showing off a bit. "My son Itachi has mastered the Uchiha clan's signature technique, the Great Fireball Jutsu. Allow him to demonstrate, and once you have all born witness, let him be recognized as a full-fledged adult of the clan."

A number of the clan members nodded in assent.

Itachi wasn't quite expecting that last bit. The ninja world had a number of interesting ideas about adulthood — all ninja were adults in the eyes of the law, and had quite a bit of autonomy. Becoming a genin would give Itachi quite a bit of freedom, as genin legally had the ability to make decisions in the eyes of the law.

It was similar to emancipation, although a jounin-sensei had a number of rights in loco parentis, and, as such, could act as a guardian if needed, and often did when it came to shinobi matters. A jounin-sensei essentially was responsible for their genin, and not just while on missions.

Even more freedom was granted once a ninja made chuunin, as they were in charge of their own destinies from there. A few things, like alcohol, pornography, or sexual relations were restricted by age, but there was a certain amount of leeway granted at chuunin and higher. No one was going to begrudge a thirteen-year-old jounin a drink, and the sex laws were only very loosely enforced.

In the clan, it was similar. Different clans had different rules, and among the Uchiha, mastery of a C-rank fire technique was the requirement. The interesting thing about that was that while elemental manipulation was generally viewed as a chuunin-rank skill, Uchiha rarely became adults in the eyes of the village before they became adults in the eyes of the clan.

Any Uchiha who developed the sharingan was more or less guaranteed to have fire as at least a secondary affinity. Primary was significantly more common, and as such, fire techniques were taught early and learned early among the Uchiha. Fire came easily to them, and such techniques were as symbolic of their clan as their eyes were.

Once she demonstrated mastery over the technique, she would be able to attend clan meetings, and vote to influence the clan head. Further, she could be officially recognized as heir, and it would allow her to begin studying under her father to learn the business of the clan, in preparation for taking the reins from him someday.

That was unlikely to begin in earnest until she was older, because Fugaku was still very young, and rarely took missions outside of the village. As such, it was unlikely for him to die, and Itachi was very likely more valuable becoming a stronger ninja. Prodigies like her didn't come around often, after all.

But first, she had to perform the technique — and not just make a fireball. With the Uchiha, it had to be a large enough fireball. The typical requirement was that one had to produce a fireball around a meter and a half in diameter, which was close to the height of a grown man, and oftentimes larger than the student performing it. Itachi was only more than a meter tall by a bit, so she was very much dwarfed by her jutsu.

Standing next to Shisui, all too aware of the weight of the gazes of her clanspeople, Itachi felt the pressure. She had just done this yesterday. She could do this today.

Fugaku said, "Anytime you're ready, Itachi." Maybe she was a little nervous, and maybe that was obvious. It didn't matter. They didn't matter. They weren't here. She needed this, and her father was counting on her. Both of her parents and most of the clan had their sharingan activated, and Itachi's every movement was catalogued by a number of red eyes. No pressure. If she fucked up, it was only going to be immortalized forever in the perfect memories of half the clan.

Her cousin leaned over and chortled, "If it will make you feel better, I know where Megumi-chan has her little Itachi fan club meetings. We could invite her and her little friends here to watch…"

Itachi made a face that showed exactly how little she thought of that suggestion, and stepped up, ignoring Shisui's childishness with as much dignity as she could muster.

She cleared her mind and reaching out to her chakra.

A deep breath.

Snake. Ram. Monkey. Boar. Horse. Tiger.

She felt the chakra that rose from her gut, through her throat, and gathered at the back of her mouth.

Then she let go, breathing out what felt like an enormous fireball, easily three meters tall, if not more.

It poured out of her, scorching her throat and crackling through the air, heat visibly distorting the space around it.

It was awesome, she had to admit. One of the definitive perks of being a ninja was the fact that Itachi could breathe fire. That was just beyond cool.

The Uchiha were also visibly impressed by the display, although they did not do something so obviously undignified as cheer. Some of the younger kids did, but most of the older ones smiled, or clapped politely, or offered a nod of congratulations. Except Shisui. Dignity was lost on him, and he cheered loudly and exuberantly for 'Itachi-chan, my cute little kouhai.' Itachi reddened at the descriptor.

Fugaku stepped forward, and said, "As is expected of my son. You have performed well." Itachi bit back any resentment from that statement, both from the pronoun, and the way in which every success she worked so hard for was met by an 'as I expect from you, Itachi.'

Mikoto smiled significantly more warmly, and her eyes shone with just as much pride as her husband's. Itachi smiled back, at both her and Sasuke.

Fugaku stepped up and addressed the crowd. "If anyone finds this display unacceptable, speak up now."

No one did.

He continued, "Then, as my right, I name Uchiha Itachi, my eldest son, as clan heir. Jin, you are relieved."

A tall, dark-haired Uchiha with a scar on his cheek nodded once in acknowledgement. Itachi's second cousin, once removed. Or was it first cousin, twice removed? She wasn't sure. They were related.

Itachi bowed to her father, and said, "Thank you, Father. I will do my best to serve the clan."

Her father nodded, and the crowd began to move forward, offering congratulations to Itachi in one big procession. Itachi was used to this sort of thing by now — as a whole, the clan held their now-official heir in very high regard.

She was unfailingly polite to each of her well-wishers, but she didn't want to encourage this sort of behavior. Success in things like this was almost always accompanied by a feeling of guilt. It, in some ways felt like being praised for exceedingly simple things like brushing her hair or teeth, or waking up in the morning. Other people might struggle with this kind of thing, but Itachi had never had to, so she felt somewhat silly that everyone made such a big deal out accomplishments like this.

To her, it was easy, and it had only taken her a few tries to be able to perform the technique, and only a few months to master it, so it felt silly to receive such praise for something she felt was trivial.

Once the crowd had moved away, Shisui stepped up and asked, "Itachi-chaaan! Let's get some dango, my treat! I know it's your favorite."

Itachi liked the idea, but she looked to Fugaku and Mikoto. Her father was impassive, and she got the sense that he thought that such a thing would be frivolous, but before he could say anything, her mother cut him off.

"Of course, kids, as long as you don't spoil your appetite. Why don't you bring me back some, as well?"

"Yes, Mother," Itachi agreed. And then she was off, after Shisui, who grinned smugly at her.

Once they cleared the clan compound, he lead the way towards the sweet shop that was undoubtedly Itachi's favorite.

Itachi had to admit that as much as Uchiha Teyaki was a great person, senbei wasn't her favorite. It was sweet bread that brought back good memories of carnival fried dough, but it was a little too dry to completely hit the spot. Dango was, on the other hand, her favorite, like little bits of truffle mixed with cake. It was awesome.

The dango shop, therefore, was Itachi's favorite place to go outside the clan compound. For an Uchiha, leaving the compound was already a novelty. Visiting the place that made the best sweets Itachi had found thus far in this life?

There was little better. Shisui knew her well.

The only thing that surpassed a trip to the dango stand was when Mikoto made her special mochi, and that was an exceedingly rare occasion that required a bunch of work on her mother's part, so it was understandably rare, and all the more special for it.

Shisui said, "You did well, you know."

Itachi replied, "Thank you."

Her cousin shrugged. "We're all behind you, you know that. The whole clan, I mean. They only expect so much because you can do it. It's their way of showing they care, you know? The clan wants you to reach your full capacity."

Itachi wasn't sure what to say to that. She did understand what Shisui was saying, but there was still something off about the whole situation. Like every achievement wasn't really her, but instead it was this borrowed genius from the original Itachi. But she didn't know how to explain that, in a way that didn't involve the fact that this was her second life, which was something she had no intention of admitting to if she could help it.

So she just nodded, and they walked into the dango shop. She didn't doubt that Shisui thought something was up, but he was leaving her alone for now. She was grateful.

They'd barely sat down with their sweet treats and an extra container for Mikoto when Shisui changed the subject.

"So, since I've gotten my third tomoe in both eyes, I've been working on applying genjutsu with only my sharingan." Itachi's eyebrows rose. That was certainly a useful skill, and fully mastering the sharingan was an impressive achievement.

"I didn't know that you knew any genjutsu," she replied.

"Yeah, well, my Dad's been teaching me some." Shisui's father was a retired ninja who worked for the Military Police as an investigator and sometimes interrogator, and was regarded as one of the more skilled ninja among the Uchiha, despite having lost his leg.

Itachi smiled, "That's good to hear. How has it been going?"

Shisui waved his hands to and fro. "It's going okay. Not great, but it could be quite a bit worse. Of course, it would help if I had someone to practice it on…" he trailed off and waggled his eyebrows imploringly.

"I would be willing to incorporate genjutsu into our training routines," Itachi agreed.

"Goody," Shisui said. "We can both learn some. Have you guys learned that yet in the academy?"

"No. We have not covered genjutsu yet. We have only very recently learned the kawarimi, and have yet to learn the henge." Itachi's voice was dry enough to convey exactly how she felt about the progress — or lack thereof — of the class.

"Okay, then. We can start you out with recognizing them! It's perfect."

Itachi agreed, with a small smile. She honestly didn't mind helping Shisui out, and it wasn't like she wouldn't get anything out of it.

They sat quietly, munching on dango after that, until a kunoichi with short, spiky purple hair sauntered in, practically bouncing off the walls, and ordered a whole lot of dango. Unsurprisingly, she was wearing fishnet. Surprisingly, it was mostly concealed under a chuunin vest.

Itachi recognized her from that other life, but Shisui apparently knew her from this one, because he called out, "Anko-chan! How lovely to see you!"

She whipped around and _glared_ at Shisui. "I told you not to call me that! It's Anko-san to you, jerk!"

Shisui just looked smug, and replied, "I've heard it both ways."

Itachi had to wince at that, because Anko looked positively _murderous_ , the way she was brandishing that kunai.

"Don't get all cutesy like that with me, Uchiha!" Shisui was grinning openly, now and Itachi had to wonder just how much he was enjoying winding her up, and whether it would be worth her eventual retribution.

"How's good old snake-face these days, anyway?" Shisui asked. Itachi paled, feeling her mouth open in shock.

"Oh, Orochimaru-shishou is fantastic, actually! He's got a mission for us in the Land of the Sea. We're leaving tomorrow!" Her entire face transformed, from vengeful to infatuated.

Shisui probably said something vaguely condescending and certainly witty to that, but Itachi didn't hear him. Instead, she could only hear the blood pounding her ears and her heart thumping in her chest. Orochimaru was still Anko's shishou. He was still ostensibly loyal to the village. The Sandaime hadn't caught him in the act yet.

She'd had no idea.

Itachi had been certain that she'd had it under control, that she knew everything she could about the series. But she'd just assumed that Orochimaru was gone, that he'd already defected, because those were true in a story that she'd read in her other life, when it was obvious now that it was sometime shortly after the Sandaime regained power. And the Land of the Sea — something was poking at her memory of that, and she wondered just how much else she was missing.

It wasn't a pleasant thought.

"Itachi?" Shisui asked, shaking her. She looked up at him, staring.

"What?" she asked.

"Everything alright?" Shisui questioned, Anko standing next to him, munching on a dango skewer, with her eyebrows raised.

"I'm...fine, I just got lost in thought."

"I'm sure," Shisui said. "But this is Mitarashi Anko, I introduced you."

"Hello, Mitarashi-san," Itachi repeated, practically on autopilot.

"You too, Itachi-san," Anko said. Turning to Shisui, she commented, "What a weird little kid."

"Hey! He's my cute baby genius cousin, he's totally not weird." Itachi only barely noticed the pronoun in that sentence, and was entirely too distracted to care.

Anko looked skeptical. "Sure. Anyway, losers, I gotta go. Important chuunin-y things to do, you know." She waggled her fingers for emphasis.

Shisui pouted, which looked ridiculous on his face, but Itachi was barely following the conversation anymore.

As Anko disappeared out the door, one question bounced around her head.

What else could she be missing?


	4. Graduation

Hitsuji's dulcet tones permeated the room, "The henge is one of the most useful and versatile techniques in the arsenal of a shinobi. Typically, the henge is used to change into other people, but also can be used to imitate animals, plants, and inanimate objects. A skilled use of the technique will be almost indistinguishable from the original, while a less proficient disguise will likely be obvious…"

As part of her training under her father, Itachi had only briefly considered the henge.

They had skimmed through both the henge and the bunshin, and Itachi hadn't really bother to learn them beyond the handsigns, and making sure she could adequately perform the technique.

The kawarimi, however, she had taken the time to learn more completely, to the point where she could perform it relatively quickly, enough that she could escape from a thrown projectile at a reasonable distance. Plus, she'd be lying if she said she didn't love the idea of popping around with Shisui, replacing unsuspecting logs willy-nilly. They wouldn't know what hit them.

Still, she hadn't much thought about the academy three.

So that was why Itachi was sitting in class, frozen, staring at Hitsuji as he explained the principles of the henge. It was so... _obvious_. Why hadn't she thought of that?

Itachi was an idiot.

Itachi didn't normally consider herself a stupid person, but she knew that she sometimes had an unfortunate propensity to be astonishingly dim about certain topics.

Exhibit A: the henge. She'd been positively mopey at the prospect of being a boy again, when in reality, she didn't have to be a boy when she didn't want to.

Being a ninja was like cheating. Biology had nothing on that shit.

Itachi raised her hand. This was not a common occurrence, and Hitsuji was visibly surprised.

Still, he called on her, "Itachi-san? You have a question?"

"The henge is physical, right? It's not just an illusion. If I henge into you and take off your vest, it's still a vest? Or, if I touch someone, it feels real?"

Hitsuji smiled. For once, she wasn't particularly annoyed by his tendency to indulge her. Instead, she felt like a shark, scenting blood in the water.

He replied, "The henge is only limited by your imagination, and your chakra. Luckily, it's a very chakra-efficient technique. So if you henge into me and you want my vest to be a vest, it will be. It's not _really_ a part of you, so it's just chakra. And if you imagine that you can touch someone and feel it, and you power that with your chakra, you can. You have to maintain concentration, of course, but it's possible."

"Thank you," Itachi said. Then she proceeded to ignore him.

On further reflection, and once she'd stopped panicking, she realized that she'd been foolish. It was just an unfortunate result of the way she was trained, and the way that interacted with her memories of that other life.

First, she'd learned the henge while training with her father, so, really, they'd covered battlefield applications of the transformation technique — disguising oneself as objects, or opponents. It wasn't that Fugaku was a bad ninja, but he was blunt, single-minded, inflexible. So she'd learned about the henge from him, but it was a lesson that took a day, and she'd picked it up then and let it rest until later.

Secondly, there was Naruto's infamous Sexy Jutsu. She'd been assuming it was a specific technique that Naruto had himself developed, and therefore something she'd need to see before replicating. As exceptional as Naruto was, that logic had to be flawed. How could an academy-level genin create a superior technique to the one that ninja had been using? It wasn't impossible, sure, but...it was Naruto. He had many talents, but the kind of talent to create one's own jutsu as a kid wasn't the kind that Naruto had. Kakashi had created his own technique at that point, but he was a very different kind of smart than Naruto was.

Itachi still didn't know for sure, but she was pretty sure it wasn't a different technique from the henge at all — rather, it was a specific form that Naruto had taught himself to henge into. Maybe she was being unfair, but she had a hard time imagining the Sexy Jutsu as anything other than a rather brilliant application of the henge.

So, what was stopping her from henging herself into a female form?

Itachi was rather embarrassed to admit that the answer to that question was nothing. And yet, she'd learned the technique as a five-year-old, and it had taken her two years to come up with the idea to make herself into an actual girl. Yep. Ladies and gentlemen, your once-in-a-generation prodigy.

Part of that was, if she was being honest with herself, that she would not be satisfied with a temporary solution. It was similar to the reason that she'd never attempt to acquire any girl's clothing — it wouldn't be enough. There was also the significant logistical quandary of keeping clothing concealed from Mikoto — she did all the washing, and she wasn't afraid of going through Itachi's room if she felt it necessary.

A henge would probably replicate most of the benefits of crossdressing — if it was technically that, and not something she did every day — anyway, with significantly less risk.

Hitsuji's voice, however, disrupted her thoughts. "Of course, a henge is obvious to both the byakugan and the sharingan. The byakugan can see through the technique, while the sharingan can only spot it." At the mention of her kekkai genkai, the class looked at Itachi, who just gazed back impassively.

Of course, being surrounded by a number of clan members who can immediately see if someone is under an illusion would put a severe cramp in her style. Still, it was an opportunity, and she wasn't about to waste it.

A part of her couldn't help but tense slightly in anticipation at the idea of trying the henge out, and at that point, the two hours until the academy got out seemed like a lifetime.

Itachi frowned, and settled in to wait.

* * *

It wasn't until the day before graduation that Itachi came up with a real solution to the henge dilemma.

Or rather, a good enough excuse to use when Mikoto called her out on using a henge, which she would notice, sooner rather than later.

The real problem came from the fact that the Uchiha — all of them — almost compulsively used the sharingan. There was absolutely no denying that it was a very powerful tool, but something about it made it more than that. It wasn't just the Uchiha's most powerful weapon, it was what made them what they were.

The Konoha Military Police was probably more recognizable from their red, swirling eyes than their symbol, the Uchiha fan embedded in a shuriken.

For an Uchiha, activating the sharingan was arguably more of a rite of passage than learning the Great Fireball. After all, everyone could learn a jutsu, but a bloodlimit was exclusive.

It was as much a mark of prestige as the proficiency of their members, or the wealth of their coffers. The Uchiha believed that even their blood was superior, and the proof came from their eyes.

Thus, the Uchiha over-using their eyes was as much a show of force as them rushing their heir through the ninja academy, or their incessant posturing in front of the council.

Thus, it was guaranteed that at some point, Mikoto would look at Itachi with red eyes, and see she was under a henge.

Thus, Itachi needed a good enough excuse to be under a henge that looked just like her normal appearance.

Or, Mikoto wouldn't notice, because she was too busy watching Sasuke. Which meant that Itachi had spent a whole lot of unnecessary time plotting and dealing with the dangly bits. She didn't want to consider that possibility.

Either way, she was under a henge, which honestly didn't look any different from her normal appearance, besides being a bit more...comfortable in a certain area.

Itachi was relieved to be rid of said dangly bits, even for a few hours. And she was wearing a different shirt over her henge, but that was part of the excuse.

She was also balancing a leaf on her forehead, for chakra control. It helped her think. And, as a child prodigy, she was much younger than her peers in the academy, and had accordingly smaller reserves. As a combination of physical and mental energy, chakra reserves grew with the body — at a pretty constant rate in the academy, and then significantly more at puberty, and then at around eighteen to twenty-one, they more or less were set for life.

So, the seven year old Itachi needed to train her chakra up in order to keep up with her peers — not that any of the academy techniques required a great deal of chakra. Learning the Great Fireball Jutsu helped, as well — if one could make a Hoshigaki Kisame-sized fireball at seven, logically, that same person should be able to make a fireball with a diameter of three hulking shark-men as an adult.

That, and, like any other muscle — or any other part of the body, really — chakra grew with use. So Itachi could regularly be found balancing a leaf or working on a low-cost control technique. A leaf on her forehead was really not a big deal.

Itachi and her mother had taken Sasuke to the park, now that he was up and walking, and talking, even if it was in disjointed sentences.

"Tachi-nii! Tachi-nii!" her little brother gurgled excitedly. "Mom!"

Itachi looked over, and then she stepped two paces to the left as Sasuke tried to dash past her, away from their little corner of the playground nearest the clan compound. She caught him around the stomach and lifted him up, to balance on her hip. If she weren't a ninja — or almost a ninja — she might have had trouble with leverage, but she was strong enough to handle it.

"What is it, Sasuke-chan?" Itachi asked.

Mikoto looked up from her book, curious. Itachi strongly suspected it was a trashy romance novel, but her mother had been careful not to let her see it too closely, and she felt like it might be a poor choice to push it, so she'd just occupied herself with imagining what it might be about. Probably steamy vampire sex. That was what Itachi hoped, anyway.

Sasuke was holding a leaf, also, trying to stick it to his forehead in imitation of Itachi.

"Tachi-nii!" he proclaimed proudly.

Itachi could feel her lips quirk, and then thought, fuck it, and let herself smile. Damn, he was a cute kid. She wished he'd never grow up, and just stay a hilarious toddler forever.

She said, "Sasuke, I think you might be a bit young to use chakra yet, ne?"

He just babbled at her, happily. Itachi nuzzled his face, and his eyes crossed. She let out a little giggle, letting herself relax a bit. Fugaku was extraordinarily insistent that she show no emotion, and, as such, she generally attempted to restrain as much of her expressions as possible.

But somehow, Sasuke managed to worm his chubby little face through her defense.

Looking up, however, she saw her mother watching her amusedly. Itachi didn't say anything, just looking back and daring Mikoto to scold her for it.

Mikoto just smirked at her.

Itachi rolled her eyes, and made a face at Sasuke, which he apparently found absolutely delightful.

It wasn't long until Sasuke got tired of being held and began to squirm incessantly. In response, Itachi deposited him back on the ground, and watched as he scampered back over to the dirt, fascinated.

Her mother's voice pulled her out of staring at him. "He looks up to you already, you know."

Itachi smiled softly in agreement, and said, "He's a good boy."

Mikoto agreed, "He is." Then her gaze became more intense. Heavier. Sasuke was happily gurgling away in the dirt, oblivious to the charged air over his head.

Itachi figured she had a good idea what Mikoto was on about. "The graduation exam is tomorrow."

Her mother's lip curled. "It is. Do you think you're ready for it?"

Itachi felt a little indignant at that, because she was sure that her mother had more faith in her. "Of course."

"It's not that I don't think you will, Itachi. I wasn't trying to imply that you won't be able to pass the test. I just wanted to know if you're ready to become a shinobi."

"I am."

Mikoto smiled fondly. "I know you are, but your mom worries about you, sometimes. You grew up so fast, Itachi. You don't always have to train so hard, you know?"

Itachi smiled at her mother. "I do know that, Mom. But...I am alright." Itachi had to choose her words carefully, because she didn't want to lie to her mother, but she couldn't come out and say that she was more deserving of the title of adult than anyone suspected. "I know that my duty is to Konoha, and I am lucky to have such skill in the art of the shinobi. So, I am happy to serve. And, if that helps the Uchiha, and ensures that Sasuke can grow up without such pressure, then all the better."

"Of course, Itachi. That is a good reason to do what you're doing. Just remember, that you don't have to do everything. You work very hard for someone so young. We're all very proud of you — me, your father, the rest of the Uchiha, even Sasuke."

Said toddler perked up at the sound of his name, and squealed in delight. Mikoto watched him fondly. Itachi couldn't help but feel strangely light, strangely free of her duty, sitting here in a park outside of the district, as if by escaping the district, the influence of her clan was also diminished.

Duty. It was a heavy word, and Itachi hadn't ever seen the point of freeing herself from it. It was easy to get caught up in the constant training, and striving for recognition. To fall into the patterns that Fugaku expected, to become the heir that the clan so desperately wanted.

It felt more and more like the only respite was with Shisui, and Sasuke, who remained largely untouched by the atmosphere of the clan.

"Itachi?"

"Yes?"

Mikoto said, "You should probably think about saving the rest of your chakra. The leaf exercise and the henge aren't that draining by themselves, but you will want to be as well-rested as possible for the exam tomorrow."

Itachi was strangely okay with that assessment. "Okay." She dropped the leaf off her forehead, and the henge. She felt very naked without it as she looked up to meet her mother's gaze, hengeless.

Mikoto's eyebrows raised, "You should tell me if you run out of clan shirts and need to do laundry, you know. It's not a big deal — you don't need a henge." Strange. Itachi hadn't seen her using the sharingan. Granted, that might not actually mean anything, because Mikoto was a jounin.

Itachi resisted the urge to shrug. It was becoming more natural to be impassive, something she wasn't totally sure was a good thing.

And she felt strangely naked without the henge, not just because she wasn't wearing a clan shirt. Generally, as an adult in the Uchiha clan, she should've always been wearing the Uchiha symbol every time she left the district. That was at least the excuse Itachi planned to use for the henge — it also coincided with the need to use up her chakra, and the more training that she got with the henge and kawarimi, the better off she'd be. Both those jutsu were incredibly useful, and mastery of them would serve her well into S-rank status.

It went without saying that Itachi had every intention of being regarded as an S-rank nin.

"I have one shirt left, but I was saving it for the academy test tomorrow," Itachi replied.

"What happened to the one you had on when you went today? Or have you been wearing a henge all day?"

Itachi just smiled mysteriously.

Mikoto folded her arms.

"I got dirty," Itachi admitted.

"Ah," Mikoto said. "You didn't happen to work on your shurikenjutsu with your cousin Shisui earlier, did you?"

Itachi made a face.

Mikoto smirked. "Thought so. Well, I can do laundry for the morning if you need it."

"I should be fine for tomorrow, at least."

"And there's nothing else I can do for you?"

Itachi replied, "There is. Stop worrying. I'll be fine."

Mikoto huffed a little, and then ruffled Itachi's hair. Itachi tried to squirm away, but her mother wasn't a jounin for nothing.

"Get your little brother, and then let's get home. It's almost dinnertime. And you're going to bed early tonight."

* * *

The day of the graduation exam, it _poured_.

Konoha really didn't get snow, because of how warm it generally was, but the precipitation changed with the seasons. It wasn't quite rainy season versus dry season, but there was a notable difference in how much it rained when the weather got colder.

The days when it was cold and rainy were the worst. Itachi would have honestly preferred the snow. Overall, however, Konoha really did have very good weather — she really couldn't complain too much.

But that didn't mean that rainy days didn't suck. Itachi stared out the front door, wishing that she knew the hiraishin, or, at least, the shunshin. For a prodigy, she was awfully lacking in transportation techniques. Instead, she just grabbed a black rain poncho with the red and white fan of the clan emblazoned across the back, and stepped out into the street.

She'd already gotten wet once this morning during her pre-academy conditioning, because even graduation day wasn't an excuse to skip. Itachi disliked being wet just as much as she'd had in her past life, and she had no desire to repeat the experience twice in one day.

She was also doubly grateful that her boots were waterproof. Unlike pretty much everyone else in this insane society, she refused to wear open-toed shoes as part of her everyday ninja wear. Konohagakure was in the forest — it was right there in the name! It was incredibly easy to injure a toe without shoes to protect them, and that could make an enormous difference in a life-or-death battle. It had taken some insisting — apparently, close-toed shoes were _just not done_ , but Itachi had no intention of walking around in those blue, open-toed insults to fashion that everyone else wore.

Plus, they kept her toes nice and warm as she trudged through the mud to the academy.

Itachi was honestly ready — she wasn't lying when she told Mikoto that she was prepared for the test, as well as the graduation — pun intended — to shinobi life. She was also truly excited for this exam. Itachi expected it to be _easy_ , and was very much looking forward to being a shinobi. As much as it was nice to be a kid again, Itachi had never handled boredom well, and she couldn't deny that progressing naturally through the academy would be wholly uninteresting.

Part of it was past knowledge, but a big part of it was Itachi. She was just so good at everything — literally every skill that was taught, she almost effortlessly excelled at.

Stepping into the academy, and taking off her coat, Itachi let her eyes wander over her classmates. She stepped up to her usual spot, towards the back and next to the window, very close to the furthest away from the door.

There were less of them than when she'd started at the beginning of the year, and none of those left were truly horrible. All of the hopeless cases would have been eliminated before this year, so most of the students they lost were the ones who were somehow incapable of the ninjutsu requirement. Usually, they were civilians who were otherwise competent but lacked the chakra capabilities of their better-predisposed peers.

The Yamanaka boy, and the Aburame were still there, as well as the black-haired girl named Shiori that Hitsuji called on frequently. Umino Iruka was also still there — he wasn't a bad student, just a poorly behaved one. Itachi also recognized the purple-haired Uzuki Yuugao, whose name she was sure she recognized, but she couldn't remember where. Yuugao was also the top kunoichi, according to the last evaluation, and Itachi would be surprised if anyone could surpass her.

Itachi, of course, was the top of the class, even if she was several years younger.

In her head, she disliked the idea of a 'top girl' as a separate category — it, like a lot of things, implied that girls didn't need to be better than boys, and didn't expect them to. Itachi felt such things were unnecessarily limiting, because it reinforced the idea that girls were less valuable as shinobi, because they weren't expected to compete with their male counterparts.

The whole 'medical ninjutsu' situation only exacerbated that. In terms of chakra, females tended to have smaller reserves and more control. Added to the fact that they tended to focus less on pure combat, it followed that they were generally relegated to support roles. Tactically, it made sense. But when sexism was added to that mix, suddenly, kunoichi were automatically less strong than their male counterparts, despite how limiting that kind of thinking could be.

Itachi wasn't sure how to prove them wrong, but she figured that the more women that were regarded as S-rank kunoichi, the better.

Hitsuji called them to order, and described the exam — first they would take a written test, and then a taijutsu one, and finally, they would have to identify and dispel a genjutsu, and finally, they would have to perform the ninjutsu that they learned in class — the academy three.

He then passed out the written exam — a surprisingly thick packet, in Itachi's opinion, but it was surprisingly full of multiple choice.

Itachi was _good_ at multiple choice.

The first question?

_Which two clans participated in the founding of Konoha?_

Itachi snorted. As if the Uchiha would let anyone forget it was them and the Senju, so they could rub it in everyone's faces that there was over a hundred Uchiha and only one Senju — and that Senju was currently drinking her away across Fire Country instead of dutifully serving their village.

So Itachi dutifully put down _Senju and Uchiha_ , before turning to the next question. Bet her clan loved that they were mentioned second, after their co-founders. Really, the Uchiha got worked up over the smallest things.

_Who was the first Hokage?_

This was going to be a very easy test.

* * *

Five hours later, Itachi was slightly sore, tired, and just wanted to do the damn ninjutsu so that she could go home. True to form, the written test hadn't been terribly difficult, just long, and her hand had started cramping towards the end. The precise characters of this language got very irritating to have to replicate after long enough, which made long test very uncomfortable.

The taijutsu, similarly, was well within her capabilities, but Yuuka hit rather hard for someone who looked so deceptively frail, and Itachi was dearly missing the stash of Mikoto's antiseptic bruise paste that was currently sitting on her dresser back home.

Similarly, after her and Shisui's practice with genjutsu, that portion was a piece of cake — the examiner used an obvious genjutsu, and Itachi would have to resign as an Uchiha if she wasn't able to handle basic genjutsu. It was a rule _somewhere_ , she was sure of it. The test was made easier by the fact that she knew it was coming — the Demonic Hell-Viewing Technique was anything but subtle. Genjutsu was really only scary when you didn't even know it was happening.

While the examiners watched everyone do the three ninjutsu one by one, everyone else was left to wait in an open classroom with exactly zero things to entertain them.

There was also the fact that they were going in alphabetical order by family name, which meant that Itachi was third from last, with only Yuugao and the Yamanaka boy after her.

It had already been almost two hours since the end of the taijutsu portion, which, in Itachi's opinion, was entirely too long. There were around twenty-five to thirty students total, all but two of which got to go before her. That meant it was taking a depressingly long time.

Itachi hadn't brought a book. There was a particularly interesting discussion of the White Fang and his exploits during the Second Shinobi World War that she was halfway through. Plus, it made her father twitchy when she read it around him.

But what was done was done, and Itachi was waiting to take the last part of a test that she had no expectations of failing. It would be extremely detrimental to her plans of independence, as well as embarrassing to Fugaku and the rest of her clan. And for better or worse, Itachi was attached to the rest of her clan.

That, and if she failed, they'd whine about it for _ages_.

There was at least a decent way of telling time — students who left didn't come back, because the instructors compiled results before the ninjutsu portion, and that was pass-fail. So, after the ninjutsu portion, students knew immediately whether they'd passed or failed, and were rewarded their forehead protectors if they became genin.

At long last, Hitsuji opened the door to the classroom and called out, "Uchiha Itachi."

Itachi got up and followed the instructor out the door, short of breath with anticipation. The classroom that served as an examination room had been mostly cleared of desks, and Yuuka was waiting inside, seated at a table with an extra chair for Hitsuji, where he sat.

Itachi went to stand in the center of the room.

"Uchiha Itachi," Hitsuji said, "When you are ready, please demonstrate the kawarimi. Any desk would be fine for replacement."

Itachi nodded, and gathered her chakra, focusing on one of the desks in a loose assortment across the room.

The handsigns came almost automatically at this point, and Itachi had very good hand speed.

Tiger. Boar. Ox. Dog. Snake.

As she held the last one, she felt the quick tug that slid her across to where her target had been. It was almost as if someone had taken a hook and tugged her across the room in a split second.

Once the smoke had cleared, she examined their expressions. They both looked pleased.

"Very good," Yuuka said with a small smile. "Now, perform a henge."

"Any preferences in the subject?" Itachi asked.

"Obviously, someone we're all familiar with," Yuuka replied wryly.

"Of course." Itachi then concentrated on an image of Hitsuji — the standard blue pants and flak jacket, the bandages around his shins, those hideous blue sandals, the slightly pudgy pot belly that jutted out beneath his jacket. His watery blue eyes, pockmarked cheeks, and the curly white hair that curled around his head, framing a Leaf headband.

Then, she gathered her chakra and flashed the signs. They came easier this time — Itachi was most familiar with the henge, out of the academy techniques.

Dog. Boar. Ram.

A puff of smoke curled around Itachi, and then she was standing much taller, a perfect replica of her academy instructor.

Hitsuji and Yuuka nodded, and the former gestured, "Now, you need to make at least three clones."

Itachi concentrated, and formed the hand seals. They were less familiar, and she focused on the image of three perfect copies springing into existence alongside her.

Ram. Snake. Tiger.

Three puffs of smoke followed, and the instructors both grinned widely.

"Very good, Uchiha-san. You pass. Not only that, but your score is the highest we've seen this year, and we are pleased to award you the title of top rookie." Itachi allowed herself a smile at this pronouncement. Hitsuji continued, "Please select a headband, and return tomorrow for your team placement."

Itachi thanked him, and walked forward to select a hitai-ate with a midnight blue cloth.

The metal felt cool and heavy in her hands. It was by far the most impressive achievement she had gotten so far in this life, and she could not help but be immensely pleased with herself. Itachi was a genin, at _seven_.

Shisui was going to pout, even if he'd also probably be secretly pleased but would never admit to such feelings, even under extreme duress.

Mikoto would likely be quietly proud, but her eyes would also be sad at the prospect of Itachi growing up too fast.

Sasuke would be pleased, but, then again, he was pleased with pretty much everything she did. One-year-olds weren't very discerning, even if they were Uchiha.

Fugaku would certainly be pleased, along with the elders. Actually, that was something of an understatement — they would be positively gleeful at having a clan heir who'd graduated at seven. Itachi could just imagine them now — wrinkly old people dancing around a table, crowing with pleasure at the prospect that someone in their distant family had achieved something remarkable. It was silly, really. They hadn't done anything significant.

All they did was grumpily inquire after her progress, and complain if she wasn't proceeding fast enough.

She _totally_ couldn't have done it without them.


	5. Teaming Up

The very first morning of her official career as a genin found Itachi up and dressed early for team assignments at the academy. She was admittedly very excited to meet her new teammates and sensei. Part of that was because of the freedom that came with being a recognized shinobi, but she was also legitimately excited at the prospect of meeting her soon-to-be comrades. Admittedly, she hadn't really made any friends in her class so far, but on a team, it would be a different situation, and they wouldn't necessarily have to be friends, but they would at least have to be friendly.

And Itachi would be lying if she claimed that she didn't want more friends.

Plus, ninja pants were basically pajamas. Any job that allowed her to wear pajamas while working was ideal in her book.

When Itachi stepped out of the kitchen to leave for the academy, Fugaku was waiting for her. She was surprised, because he would usually have left to go to his work at the police station by now, but he was here, instead.

"Father," she greeted politely.

"Itachi," he replied. "Walk with me."

"Yes, Father," Itachi agreed.

Fugaku led her out of the compound in silence, and did not speak again until they were well on their way. It wasn't uncommon for him to do that — he was a man of few words, and he rarely spoke unless he actually had something to say.

In fact, no one except Shisui among the Uchiha talked to fill the silence. It was, like most things with the Uchiha, because of their eyes. When the majority of one's family could interpret the most minute of facial twitches, one didn't really need to say a whole lot. And, as much as Itachi wished it weren't so, the fact that not all the clan had the doujutsu wasn't an issue — a true Uchiha had the sharingan, after all.

And people wondered where Madara got the idea to start plucking out his clan members' eyes.

In front of the Military Police building, Fugaku stopped her, and met her gaze.

He cleared his throat, and said, "You know where we are."

Itachi had to admit that she wasn't sure where he was going with this. "I do."

"The Konoha Military Police is the pride of the Uchiha. It's an entire branch of Konoha shinobi comprised entirely of the members of our clan. When Senju Tobirama became Hokage, he gifted the duty of policing the village and its shinobi exclusively to us. It is an honor to serve our village, and each member of the Military Police is a diligent, competent shinobi." Itachi followed the speech dutifully. She knew all of this, of course, but Fugaku wouldn't have said all that if there wasn't a point he was getting at.

He continued, "The Nidaime hated the Uchiha. He thought us all untrustworthy killers, and he thought his brother foolish for seeking peace between us.

"He saw Madara's abandonment of the village as proof for his prejudice. So, then, is the Military Police such a noble gift? Uchiha spend their careers as ninja working to rise in the ranks of the organization. And yet, the clan head is always the one in charge."

Itachi started, and frowned at her father. Then she thought about it for a bit.

She said carefully, "You don't want me to join. You think it's beneath us."

He frowned. "It is an honor. But that does not mean it does not hold us back. No son of mine is merely a competent shinobi. I am telling you this because I want you to excel, and to show the world just how strong the Uchiha are. You cannot do that if you are stuck within the trap that is the Military Police."

Itachi understood. Left unsaid was that Itachi was clan heir, and when Fugaku died or stepped down, she would inherit the Military Police whether she had any experience at the job or not. He wanted her succeed outside of the clan, to carve a path that other Uchiha couldn't follow. Of course, that would bring honor and prestige to the clan, but to Itachi, that was only a fringe benefit. Following along with the clan lined up nicely with her own goals, so she felt no inclination to argue. The other Itachi had been ANBU. Itachi felt that she could get behind that. She didn't really want to become a ninja police officer anyway.

And, when she thought about it, Fugaku's point made a lot of sense. She didn't exactly know that much about Senju Tobirama, so she couldn't say whether or not he'd actually hated her clan, but her father's comments about the duty of the police made the clan's thoughts on the matter pretty obvious.

In a way, she couldn't blame them. The prospect of serving her village as glorified beat cop instead of missions outside of the village wasn't a particularly tempting one. That, and the fact that it was solely limited to the Uchiha took all of the prestige out of it — it was an expected duty, and therefore not at all noteworthy. Because of that, it wasn't the honor it was purported to be — it was an obligation, a burden, and that had soured it to the Uchiha.

The police force was also funded by the clan — although it was subsidized by the Hokage — and she couldn't imagine that positively impacting relations. Even her, as a newly minted genin, would have to contribute a shocking amount of the mission pay she'd receive from completing missions to the clan's funds.

Add that to the fact that the Uchiha were not enormous, and thusly, more of them were Military Police than not, and really, it was a surprise that they got any volunteers at all.

And, if she was honest with herself, she was glad to escape that duty. Go out and kick ass? Yeah, she could handle that.

"Yes, Father," she agreed. "I will bring honor to our clan."

"You are my son," Fugaku said, voice swelled with pride. "Of course you will."

Itachi wasn't quite sure what to say to that, but he took her silence for assent anyway.

* * *

"Team Six: Uchiha Itachi, Uzuki Yuugao, and Kasshoku Kane."

Kasshoku Kane looked up in surprise as his name was called. When he'd heard the first two names, he really wasn't expecting or hoping for the last one to be his. Both of his teammates were strong shinobi at the top of their class, and he honestly really wasn't anywhere near their level.

Itachi looked mildly interested at the news, and their eyes met across the room. Then the other boy nodded to him, and Kane grinned. Itachi was the prodigy heir to one of the strongest clans in the village, and really really good, despite the fact that he was three years younger than everyone else. But the thing Kane liked about him was that he never threw it in anyone's face — he knew he was good, but he let his skills speak for themselves.

Yuugao, on the other hand, didn't look nearly as friendly, but she wasn't necessarily hostile to him, either. She did meet his eyes, and acknowledge him, though, so Kane nodded at her, too. Her eyes remained cool, but she inclined her head. He didn't know very much about her, only that she wasn't from a shinobi clan and that she worked very hard. She also seemed to know a whole lot of things beforehand, so she probably wasn't from a civilian family.

He had a lot of ground to make up.

Despite the fact that he was weaker than both of them, there definitely were some benefits to strong teammates. They were bound to succeed, so he'd be able to associate with high-ranking shinobi, even if his own prospects didn't pan out. The Uchiha was the real gem there — if Kane knew anything, he knew how important it was to know the right people.

But, in another way, Kane knew he wasn't anything special. If anything, he was one of the worst kids in the class — the only real strength he had was his throwing accuracy, and even then, Itachi was better than him, and Yuugao was just as good. Kids like him didn't grow up to be the elite, they just didn't.

But, if they were lucky, kids like him got to ride on the coattails of the elite.

When Hitsuji-sensei finally dismissed the class, Kane got up and rushed out the door, heading away from the academy. It would have been nice to spend some time with his new teammates, but he had other things to do. They probably would eat together, but he was behind anyway, and he already needed to catch up. Missing an introductory lunch with his new teammates wouldn't be the end of the world.

They only had an hour for lunch. It was enough time, but only just.

It took him exactly twelve minutes to reach a worn building with a gaudry red facade in one of the poorer regions of Konoha, breathing slightly. He went around the back, and slid open the back door quietly, inhaling the scent of perfume, and under that, just barely at the edge of his senses, the smell of rot.

Inside, he moved quickly past a large scarred man snoring away, down a dark hallway, up a set of nicer stairs, and then further up a set of out-of the way, rickety stairs, through a dilapidated hallway, into a darkened room. It was small, filled primarily by a closet full of clothes and two futons, one rolled up and put away against the wall, and the other one a tangled mass of dark hair and blankets. Not bothering to be quiet anymore, he allowed his footsteps to echo on the floorboards, and reached over to the sleeping figure on the occupied futon.

He tried to jostle her awake. "Mom. Mom, get up."

She rolled over and didn't wake.

Kane frowned, and kept at it. "Mom, you need to wake up. You've slept enough for now."

His only answer was a groan.

Kane didn't think this was going to work.

Fine, then. He'd have to resort to more drastic measures. He left the room, turned on the water for instant ramen, and filled a glass from the sink. Then, he moved into the other room and splashed it all over his mother. She jerked awake with a start, gasping for breath and clawing at the sheets. Her dark hair was mussed, wild around her face, and her vivid blue eyes — the eyes he'd inherited from her — bloodshot and unseeing.

Kane let it happen, looking around the shaded room while she woke up. He didn't see her pipe anywhere, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. Given how hard she'd been to wake up, he wasn't optimistic that she wasn't on something.

"Wake up, damnit." he said shortly. "It's past noon, and I don't have time to babysit you all afternoon. I have to be back to the academy in," he checked the time, "thirty minutes. If you come to the kitchen in the next ten minutes, I'll get you breakfast. After that, I have to go and meet my sensei." And then he left the room, heading back to his lunch.

Back in the kitchen, he retrieved the now-boiling water and mixed instant ramen in, letting it cook. Then, he pulled out two pieces of fish, and started to cook them in case his mother show up, which was admittedly unlikely.

The door opened, and an extremely pretty woman with red hair and green eyes came through, saw him, and smiled. "Kane-kun! How lovely to see you today."

"Aiko-san," he returned politely, mouth suddenly dry. "And you as well."

"I hear you're meeting your team today," she said.

"Yes. I've got to get back, but I had to make sure Mom was awake and ready for the day."

Aiko laughed, which gave Kane that weird squirmy feeling inside. She had a nice laugh.

The older woman said, "Well, if she isn't up by the time you leave, I'll go kick her a few times for you if you like."

Kane grinned, too. "Thanks, Aiko-san."

"Anytime. You might want to check your fish, though."

"Oh!" Kane hustled to make sure his food wasn't burning. The fish needed some attention, and he needed to eat if he was going to get back to the academy in time to meet his jounin-sensei.

When he finally got the opportunity to turn back and wolf down his ramen, he noticed that Aiko was still watching him. He wasn't sure if he honestly wanted to know, but he needed to ask.

"Hey, Aiko-san. Do you know what my mom was up to last night?"

She didn't say anything, but her eyes regained the coolness that he usually only saw when she was 'entertaining.' He understood.

Still, she said evenly, "I saw her with Kuchibashi after you went to bed." Kane sighed at that. Kuchibashi was his mother's dealer, which, really, meant that her bloodshot eyes weren't because of sleep deprivation. Which meant that he probably wouldn't see her before he had to leave.

So Kane just said, "Thanks, Aiko-san." And then he concentrated on eating the rest of his ramen, and trying not to get caught staring at a pretty woman.

Before leaving, however, he went back in and checked on his mother. She'd turned around, but hadn't made any moves to get out of bed. He could tell that she was at least slightly awake, but hadn't bothered to get out of bed, and was not amused.

"Mom, there's fish in the kitchen. I'm going to tell Aiko-san it's hers in ten minutes if you don't get up."

When all he heard was a sleepy murmur, he just sighed and returned to the kitchen, where he said the same thing to Aiko. She'd just laughed again, which made his cheeks go red, and promised to take care of it. Kane let that go, and seeing that he had less than fifteen minutes left before the end of his lunch period, rushed out the door back to the academy.

He arrived with a minute to spare, and dropped himself into a seat in the classroom, letting his breathing return to normal. His teammates were already here, and Itachi at least looked somewhat curious about where he'd gone, but he didn't respond to the younger boy's inquiring gaze. Yuugao was less interested.

Kane briefly wondered what kind of sensei he'd get. He was on a team with the Uchiha heir — that meant that there had to be an impressive jounin, right? Maybe even another Uchiha.

He was honestly hoping for someone who wasn't part of an established clan — someone who had no children, ideally. Someone that would have techniques they would want to pass on, instead of a member of a clan like the Uchiha whose best techniques were clan secrets, or a parent who was saving the best techniques for their children.

When everyone had assembled, Hitsuji-sensei addressed all of them, Yuuka-sensei standing next to him. "Now, in a few minutes, your jounin-sensei will be showing up, and you will be officially part of a four-man cell as genin of Konoha. But first, I want to say that both Yuuka-sensei and I are proud to have been your instructors in your time here at the Academy, and we are confident that you all will grow up to be fine shinobi of Konoha. This will be our last meeting together as teachers and students, but if any of you need help, or advice in the future, you can come to us."

Kane wasn't quite so sure about the last part — Hitsuji-sensei was absolutely the last person he would go to for advice, because damn that man played favorites like it was nobody's business. His short, dark-haired and doe-eyed teammate — Kane would never say it to his face, but wow did Itachi have girly-looking eyes — could certainly go to the man for advice, but a delinquent like him would not have the same kind of luck.

Still, the offer was nice, he supposed. And Yuuka-sensei had been helpful to him, despite the fact that he'd never had free much time to practice his kata, and therefore was pretty bad at it.

But he murmured a thank you along with the rest of the class, for politeness' sake, if nothing else. No reason to burn any bridges, after all.

And then, the largest man that Kane had ever seen strode through the door, almost as if on cue. He was tall, and broad-shouldered, and thick with muscle. He had green hair that was near greying, light brown eyes, and his deeply tanned chest rippled under his flak vest. A Konoha headband was tied around his bicep, which was easily the size of his dark-haired teammate's waist.

All in all, he looked dangerous.

Kane certainly thought he was the coolest-looking jounin he'd seen in a while, and could barely believe his ears when the man said, "Team Six. Follow me," before turning around and striding out the door.

Kane practically scrambled over himself to follow him, and he could see Itachi and Yuugao getting up too. They fell into step, and followed the giant man out of the room and down the hallway, into an unoccupied classroom.

Their jounin-sensei stood at the head of the room, stern and intimidating, and gestured them to sit. They filed in — Kane first, then Yuugao, with Itachi bringing up the rear.

The large man then spoke, "I am Honda Katsu, and I will be your jounin-sensei. You may call me Katsu-sensei. We will be working together in the future, so I believe it is customary to introduce ourselves. I will go first, to demonstrate.

"I enjoy warm sake, dogs, and coming home from missions intact. I dislike foolishness, and those who burden others with unreasonable expectations. My dream for the future is for all of my students to advance in rank. My hobbies include spending time with my dogs, and practicing my specialty, kenjutsu." At that, he bowed, and then gazed at them expectantly.

Kane was honestly kind of surprised. He was a big, awesome-looking jounin, but then he turned out to be boring! At least the kenjutsu bit was interesting. Kane had always wanted to know how to use a sword.

He looked at his teammates, but they weren't jumping to make the first move, so he did. "My name is Kasshoku Kane! I enjoy steak, and talking to Aiko-san. I dislike people who take advantage of others, and my dream for the future is to become a badass jounin! I don't really have a lot of time for it, but my hobby is drawing." It was true — the only time Kane really got to draw was when he wasn't paying attention in class.

Katsu-sensei nodded at him, and then looked to Itachi.

The dark-haired boy spoke up, "I am Uchiha Itachi. I enjoy sweets, particularly dango, and spending time with my little brother, Sasuke. I dislike giving up, and those who judge others based on appearances. My dream for the future...I wish to protect my family. My only hobby is training."

Which was sort of sad, Kane thought. This guy's only hobby was training? Literally, that was the only thing he did for fun? Sure, it sort of explained why he was so stupidly good, but it was still depressing.

A thoughtful look crossed their sensei's face at that, and Kane couldn't help but sigh. Already, the Uchiha was getting more attention than him. Just because he trained all day and came from a stupid clan!

Still, he needed to listen to his third teammate.

She bowed slightly, and said, "Uzuki Yuugao, Katsu-sensei. I enjoy learning, and I dislike showoffs. My dream is to surpass my siblings, and my hobby is cooking." Kane figured that having a teammate who liked to cook was probably one of the better things that could happen.

There was an awkward silence after that, where nobody really seemed to know what to say. The three genin were looking to their sensei for guidance, while he just stood there and stared back.

Honestly, it was kind of hilarious. This guy had absolutely no idea how to talk to kids. Even his introduction was by-the-book. What a strange fellow.

Yuugao was the first to break the strange staring match. "Okay, what now, sensei?"

Katsu-sensei's face was impassive as he answered, "Tomorrow, we will meet at training ground sixteen, at eight in the morning, for my part of your genin test."

"What?" Kane almost shouted. "You mean we're not done?"

To his surprise, it was Itachi who answered his question. "We passed the test to become genin, but each jounin is given the option to test their teams before they take them on as students. If we fail, we will still be genin, but as a part of the regular genin corps instead of studying under a jounin-sensei."

"Oh," Kane said, feeling stupid. No one had told him that. At least the other boy hadn't been condescending about it. It was, however, sort of annoying that the Uchiha really hadn't expected him to know, either. It was only small consolation that Yuugao looked surprised, too. "Does that mean we're not doing anything else today?" he asked.

"No," Katsu-sensei said. "I will see you all tomorrow. Good-bye, now." In two quick moves, he popped over to the open window, and then out the door.

Yuugao huffed, and Itachi giggled.

Kane found that hilarious — the usually stoic boy was tittering like a schoolgirl, and he could only stare in open-mouthed surprise. The Uchiha as a rule were stuck-up bastards, and he'd thought that the heir he had in his class was cut from the same cloth.

Apparently, he was wrong.

There was something somehow unsettling about him giggling, and, yet, it was also an incredible relief. There was no doubting that Itachi was a strong ninja — he was at the top of the class, and he won all the time in spars, and both his Henge and his Kawarimi were absolutely awesome — but sometimes Kane had honestly wondered if he was little chakra construct instead of a real person — something that the Uchiha had manufactured in their isolated compound full of grumpy dark-haired pyromaniacs.

It didn't help that he talked sort of strangely too — his words were always sort of stilted, like he was always choosing very carefully what he wanted to say, and he very rarely smiled or showed all that much outward emotion at all.

So, the sight of his youngest teammate actually acting somewhat like the seven-year-old he was was a welcome relief. Kane was able to relax around him a bit now, knowing that he did things like giggle.

Itachi's giggles had escalated into full-blown chortles, and he gasped out, "What a weird guy."

Kane couldn't help but grin. Those were his exact thoughts. "He was, wasn't he?"

Itachi turned to him, eyes full of mirth. "I bet he has one of those terrible manuals about how to talk to genin, and he was just reading from a checklist."

Kane erupted into laughter at that.

The girl interrupted then, "What does it matter if he's a little weird? He's obviously a strong ninja. Ahd he's our sensei! He might still be watching us!"

She had a point. Kane shut up. Itachi sobered up too, but he still looked amused, which was a far cry from his usual impassive self.

Kane had missed the earlier lunch, so he asked, "Well, do you guys want to try and prepare for this test we have tomorrow?"

Yuugao frowned. "I was supposed to go and train with my sister later, but I suppose I could spare a few minutes to try and strategize."

"It does seem prudent," Itachi agreed.

"Good!" Kane said. "Now, well, how do we do that?" He hadn't actually gotten that far in his thinking. And, Katsu-sensei hadn't actually said what he was testing them on, now that Kane thought about it. That would have been a good thing to ask, while their teacher was still here. And he'd vanished rather quickly, to boot.

Kane was now wondering whether he'd underestimated the man. Poor social skills or no, Yuugao was right — no one made jounin by accident.

Speaking of Yuugao, she was giving him a rather nasty look. He wasn't sure he deserved that, but she'd seemed unfriendly towards him all day, and Kane had no idea why.

The girl in question sneered. "Well, if you wanted to know, you should have asked him then." The added 'idiot' was unspoken, but Kane heard it anyway.

Still, in the interest of getting along with his teammates, he valiantly let it go. "So, how do we plan for a test that we know nothing about?"

"The jounin-sensei have utmost discretion in the test. It could be anything," Itachi contributed. "I don't see how we could easily plan to pass a test that we can't anticipate. Can we somehow find out whether Honda Katsu has tested a group of genin before us, and didn't pass them?"

Yuugao, for the first time, looked interested. "You mean, a group that failed?"

"Exactly," the dark-haired prodigy replied. "It's not impossible that we are not the first team he's tested, and we could ask them what his test was like."

Kane was grinning now. They were like a real team, planning together like this!

Spurred on by the planning, he asked, "Are there records of team assignments in the academy?"

Both his teammates looked at each other.

"It's possible," Itachi said.

"It can't hurt to look, right?" Yuugao agreed.

Then they looked at Kane. Itachi asked, "Well, since it's your idea, what's the plan, boss?"

Kane rubbed his hands together. "Well, the records are kept in the administration office, right?" At their nods, he continued, "The ideal time to break in would be at night."

"True. But I don't think I can spend all night on this," his dark-haired teammate said. "And it's not impossible to do it now, is it?"

"No," Kane allowed. "Although it would be easier at night."

"I'd rather do it now, as well," Yuugao said, looking meaningfully at Kane. What did she have against him? He was only trying to make friends with his new teammates.

If they were both wanted to do it now, he wasn't so sure it was worth arguing, to be honest. It wasn't like it was impossible, or even horrifically difficult. Kane was by no means a prodigy of infiltration, but since the general rule of Konoha — or really any village was 'if you can break into it without being caught, you have the clearance for it,' this wasn't his first rodeo. As a child of the red light district, he didn't have the advantages that many of his peers — including his fellow genin on Team Six — did. In order to stay competitive, one learned to adapt.

And if the child of a drugged-out prostitute in the red light district hadn't learned to adapt, they didn't survive.

"Alright, so here's what I think," Kane said. "One of us distracts whoever is in the office while the others break in and look at the records."

Yuugao grimaced. "Uchiha-san is the best choice for distraction, probably."

Said boy frowned. "Please, call me Itachi-san. And it depends. Someone like Hitsuji? I'd be your best choice. I could distract him for long enough easy. But we might not get that lucky. Not everyone likes the Uchiha."

And wasn't that weird? He didn't think it was worth pressing about now, but that wasn't something he'd ever seen. The Uchiha were practically royalty in Konoha, after all, and Itachi was their favored son. It seemed completely alien to him that people might actually dislike him due to that.

But with someone like Hitsuji-sensei, who practically worshipped the kid — they could use that.

"Hold on," Kane interjected. "Do we even have to break in at all? Why don't we just go and ask? If it's Hitsuji-sensei, he did say we could ask for help anytime we needed it..." Sure, he didn't think their teacher would be all that willing to help him out, but Itachi? Hitsuji-sensei had practically bent over backwards numerous times to help him out.

Itachi made a disgruntled expression. "Fine."

Yuugao chuckled darkly, "I'm sure it won't be hard, all you have to do is blink those big beautiful dark eyes at him, and he'll be tripping over himself to help you. 'Oh, Itachi-san! Of course, Itachi-san!'"

He just glowered darkly at her. She smirked back challengingly.

Kane huffed a laugh. Best to defuse the tension. "Well, is he even going to be in there now?"

His teammates turned away from their battle of wills, and looked to him.

Yuugao acquiesced, "It's probably been long enough that he's back in his office. The meeting time was a half hour ago, for us to meet our sensei. There's no way a jounin-sensei would make their team wait for hours, right? That'd be just cruel."

"Agreed," he said. "So we send Itachi-san in first, and he can signal us whether it's Hitsuji-sensei or someone he can convince or not. And if he can, good, but if not, we need a plan for sneaking in."

"I believe the plan was that I would distract him. Would that not require me to get him to leave the room?"

Kane reddened. "Well, yeah. Then we don't really need much of a plan, huh? You just get him to leave, and we waltz in and break into the records. That sound good?"

Itachi nodded, and Yuugao just sighed. "Let's get on with it, then. I don't have all day."

"Fine," Kane agreed. "But we need a signal. How are we supposed to know if it's Hitsuji-sensei or not?"

"Don't be stupid," his purple-haired teammate chided. "If Itachi-san comes out with a teacher that's not Hitsuji-sensei, we have to break in. If he comes out with the records, it was him and Itachi-san convinced him, so we don't have to. Now, come on."

Well, when she put it like that, it was rather obvious. Still, he wasn't stupid, he just liked to have a concrete plan before he did things. He wasn't great at on-the-fly type stuff.

While Itachi went into the administration office of the academy, Kane and Yuugao hid themselves around the corner, anxiously peeking their heads to check on the door to the office. A few minutes or so of silence ensued, before Kane considered breaking it.

He wasn't sure, though, because without Itachi there as a buffer, he was admittedly much less confident around his female teammate. While she didn't appear to like the Uchiha all that much, she did appear to respect him, and that wasn't quite the case with Kane.

Still, it might be useful to know what exactly her problem was.

But before he could work up the courage to say something, the door opened, and their teammate strolled out, alone. Kane and Yuugao rounded the corner, and approached him.

"What did you find?" he asked.

Itachi frowned, and said, "Hitsuji was very informative. Our jounin-sensei has never taught a genin team before."

"Damnit!" Yuugao said. "This was all a waste of time! That's it! I've got stuff to do today, and if neither of your two are going to be helpful, then I'm going home." She stormed off.

Itachi watched her leave, and then turned to Kane. "Hmm. Problematic."

Kane said, "I'm not sure what her problem is."

The other boy didn't shrug, but somehow managed to give that impression anyway. "I am also unsure. But I also have to go. I'm supposed to train with my cousin. He's been away on a mission for the last month, and so he'll want to congratulate me on becoming a genin. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure," Kane replied, smiling weakly.

"Don't worry. She'll come around, and we can handle the test when it comes," Itachi reassured him. He sounded confident, and Kane really did want to believe him, but he wasn't so sure.

He couldn't think of anything to say, so he let the Uchiha go. He really didn't want to return home, and deal with his mother right now, but he'd planned for the bonding with his teammates to take a little longer. Maybe the genin archives would have something on his new teacher. It would give him something to do for an hour or two, anyway.


	6. The Art of Misdirection

Itachi was similarly contemplating the mystery that was Honda Katsu, on her way back though the clan district. She hadn't been exaggerating when she mentioned she found him hilarious, because as far as Itachi could tell, his social awkwardness wasn't feigned.

And oh, wasn't it hilarious to meet an elite jounin who basically was as weird as Kakashi, only completely serious about it. Itachi _desperately_ wanted to know more about the guy, for the sole purpose of finding out whether he was actually that way, or whether it was part of some big con. It seemed certainly plausible that a jounin would fuck with his genin like that.

Or perhaps, she thought as she absentmindedly waved to Uchiha Teyaki, who was manning his senbei shop, she was modelling her idea of what a jounin-sensei should be too much on Hatake Kakashi, infamous for his weirdness. There was only a very small chance that Katsu-sensei would be that weird, too, right?

Or, at least, Itachi hoped so.

And even if the man was, Itachi supposed it wasn't really the end of the world. As long as he was capable, he could be the weirdest person in the universe, and she'd still learn a lot. And, a good deal of most powerful shinobi she knew or knew of were...maybe not _weird_ , but definitely quirky.

So really, it wasn't like she was expecting him to be a mundane, average, boring fellow that treated being a shinobi as a job and was relatively normal off the clock. That phrase was something of a misnomer among higher-ranked shinobi, because she didn't see a lot of them relaxing. It seemed like the rank of jounin came with a lack of ability to 'turn off.' In a way, that was part of the confusion with Mikoto — she didn't really _look_ like any jounin Itachi had ever met before.

But still...Katsu-sensei had seemed hilariously weird. While it would be entertaining in passing, it might be one of those things that got considerably less charming with long-term exposure.

It was with this thought in her head that she arrived home. Hearing voices in the kitchen, she dropped her stuff in her room, and went to go see who was home. While it was possible Mikoto was just talking to Sasuke, there were two distinct voices, but Itachi couldn't hear them well enough to make them out, and she hadn't discovered how to channel chakra to her ears to improve her hearing yet. Something to look into, for sure. If it was even possible — she wasn't totally sure she had made it up or not. It was getting harder and harder to remember.

She was somewhat surprised to see that Shisui was sitting around her kitchen table, chatting quietly with her mother.

"Itachi!" Mikoto said, smiling. "How did it go?"

"It went...well, thank you, Mom." Itachi looked at Shisui, curious, before continuing, "It is strange to see you here, Shisui-sempai."

He grinned widely, and said, "Mikoto-obachan and I are old friends, you know!"

Mikoto glanced at him, her wordless reprimand obvious. Shisui just grinned sheepishly, eyes scrunched shut with the force of his smile.

"Huh," Itachi said. "I didn't know you knew Shisui so well, Mom." She purposefully addressed her mother, instead of her childish sempai. It was like him to be overly friendly, and she generally responded to such behavior with casual disdain.

It was like training a dog — rewarding good behavior and punishing bad.

"Apparently, we're far better friends than I thought we were," Mikoto replied, her tone light and her lips twitched into a grin.

"I see," Itachi said. She did understand. It was a Shisui thing, and most people realized pretty fast that it was just easier to go along with it than to expend the effort to actually dissuade him from being...him. "I don't anticipate any serious problems with my new team. We should work together well enough, and although I don't know anything about my new sensei, I can imagine he is competent, considering Father allowed him to teach me in the first place."

And wasn't that the truth. She didn't honestly believe that Honda Katsu was a bad ninja, because if he was, she imagined that the moment Fugaku heard his name, he'd be in the Hokage's office demanding a competent instructor.

"Awesome!" Shisui enthused. "Who are your teammates?"

"Uzuki Yuugao and Kasshoku Kane. And our jounin-sensei is Honda Katsu," Itachi supplied. Shisui's excitement at the first name was obvious, but she didn't miss her mother's surprise at hearing the last.

"Uzuki?" her cousin asked. "I know an Uzuki that graduated my year. Uzuki Yuri. She doesn't seem to like me much. I don't know why. She always gets mad at me when I ask her on dates."

Itachi repressed a snort, but Mikoto's amused expression told her that she wasn't the only one that thought that statement was funny.

"Does this Yuri have purple hair?" Itachi asked.

"Mhmm!" Shisui crowed. "She's _pretty_."

"I'm sure. They're probably related, because also Yuugao-san has purple hair. Neither of you have heard of Kasshoku Kane, either?"

Both Shisui and Mikoto answered in the negative, and Itachi had to consider her third teammate. Her impression of him was...strange. From the academy, she'd thought him a lazy and unmotivated student. He was often late or absent, and he frequently didn't do homework. And his practical skills were underdeveloped — Itachi had often wondered whether he bothered to practice.

That image had only been reinforced when he disappeared after team assignments, leaving her with Yuugao. Who, admittedly, wasn't bad — she didn't think the purple-haired girl would be a bad teammate, even if she was surprisingly cool.

But then, Kane had come back, and their dynamic had changed. He'd seemed so determined to succeed, constantly pushing them to find out Katsu-sensei's test. Itachi hadn't minded, as she figured that there was really no such thing as being too prepared — even if she doubted that she wouldn't pass. Part of that was confidence, and part of that was because of the absolutely enormous shitfit that Fugaku would throw if someone had the gall to fail her. But that image of a determined shinobi-to-be from a civilian family clashed with the way he'd acted in the academy. It was a mystery, and as unsurprising as it was that neither her mother or her cousin knew of him, she was still disappointed.

But in the meantime, her mother knew something about her sensei, and she needed to find out what that was.

So she said, "We have a further test, from our sensei tomorrow. But he's never taken a genin team before, so we couldn't figure out what his test was going to be."

Mikoto looked amused. "And how did you figure out that you're his first team?" she asked.

"Oooh!" Shisui said, waving his hand in the air like he was in class. "You teamed up, didn't you? Your first team bonding moment!"

What a weird kid.

"Yes. I asked Hitsuji to let me see previous records, but there was nothing."

"Aww, so it was just you? It's supposed to be team bonding, y'know? How are you supposed to become awesome friends with your teammates if you go off and do stuff alone!?" her cousin asked.

"It was a collaboration. I was just the spokesperson because of my overwhelming charisma," she deadpanned.

"Ahaha! Good one, Itachi-chan!"

Mikoto raised a curious eyebrow at the nickname, but Itachi just shook her head. It was a Shisui thing. She took this opportunity to silently implore Mikoto to elaborate on whether or not Mikoto recognized her sensei's name, because Itachi had noticed her reaction, and Mikoto had noticed Itachi noticing her reaction.

Mikoto frowned minutely, and Itachi realized that she didn't necessarily want to talk about it, and likely wouldn't have said anything if Itachi hadn't brought it up. Itachi had to look pitiful in order to remind Mikoto that Itachi was her child, and therefore it was sort of her duty to help. Mikoto sighed after that, a small, almost imperceptible thing, but Itachi was on that like a hungry genin on a rabbit.

Shisui just rolled his eyes at the exchange. He wasn't all that big on the nonverbal Uchiha language.

Having folded first, the Uchiha woman volunteered, "I know your jounin-sensei. I don't know him very well, but we have met a few times."

"So what's the test going to be? Mikoto-obachan, tell us, oh great purveyor of wisdom!"

Itachi felt the need to intervene for her mother. Maybe she'd be more willing to share if she were less pressured. "Shisui, that's not how it works. Unless she's close friends with him, there's no guarantee that Mom will have any idea what he's going to use as a test."

Shisui pouted. "Don't you ruin my fun with your silly little logic. It's like you have no sense of drama, Itachi."

Itachi chose to ignore that comment, and instead asked the question that had been bothering he since her sensei's abrupt departure.

"Is Katsu-sensei always so...awkward?" she asked.

Mikoto's eyes widened in surprise, before she chortled. "Honda Katsu is not the most...sociable of men, to put it one way. If you found him off-putting, that's most likely the reason. He is a very capable shinobi, though. Don't worry, Itachi. You'll be in good hands."

"Thanks," Itachi said. "He honestly sounded like he had no idea what to say. It was...weird, for lack of a better word. Like the weirdness opposite of Shisui, here."

Her cousin protested, "Hey! Are you making fun of me?"

"That...doesn't surprise me. He's just awkward, don't worry," her mother agreed, ignoring Shisui.

Itachi grinned, and then sidled over to poke Shisui. "We'd do nothing of the sort, dearest Shisui-sempai. Now, stop whining. I thought we were supposed to work on genjutsu today."

"But you haven't told us about your teammates!"

"I just met them today, Shisui."

Shisui made puppy eyes, which looked honestly slightly ridiculous on him. "C'mon!"

"Yuugao seemed pretty serious, but I'm not sure about Kane. He slacked off a lot in the academy. Are you happy now? I might need to know this for my jounin-test tomorrow, you know." If he wanted to whine instead of help her practice, maybe a guilt-trip would work.

"Alright," her cousin acquiesced. "If we haaave to."

Mikoto looked a little confused. "I remember, it was just a few months ago you were all excited about your sharingan and how you were going to use it to learn genjutsu. What's changed?"

Itachi tried to hide her grin, but she couldn't totally disguise the amused tilt of her lips, while Shisui beamed and said, "Nope! Nothing's the matter! We should go, Itachi!"

Mikoto glanced questioningly at her child. "I'll be along in a second," Itachi said. "I just need to talk to Mom."

Shisui wandered out the back door, and Itachi met Mikoto's eyes. "Despite the fact that he has the sharingan, he does not always win when it comes to genjutsu. I think he's frustrated with that."

"Ah," Mikoto said. "Well, maybe I can show him a thing or two. As it happens, I am somewhat familiar with the sharingan."

Itachi had to admit that she had a point. "You should. It would help. I am... _very_ good at genjutsu. It comes very naturally to me. Shisui is not without skill, but I believe that I am...difficult to compare oneself to."

"Then I suppose some pointers might not be amiss."

At Mikoto's gesture, Itachi led the way out to the backyard.

Shisui was waiting there, standing under a tree. Itachi's family had a decent-sized space in the back, shaded by cool trees. It wasn't as large as an established training field, but it had just enough space to move around, making it useful as a small, low-impact training ground. Due to Mikoto's garden, however, outright sparring was prohibited. It was a very good place to practice things like genjutsu, low-key taijutsu, or physical conditioning that wasn't running.

Itachi and Shisui couldn't realistically use the Uchiha training ground for everything, as there were other people in the clan, even if she was the prodigy clan heir, and most of them would be more than willing to let them practice whenever they wanted.

"Oi! Itachi-chan! What was that all about?" Shisui asked.

"I had to talk to Mom about cutting my hair," Itachi replied smoothly. Mikoto started at that, and Itachi reveled in surprising her.

"Really?" her mother asked. "I usually have to make you cut your hair. I think this is the first time you've wanted one. This is because you've graduated?"

"Indeed," Itachi replied. She didn't particularly want a haircut, but it was probably necessary now that she was likely to be leaving the village on missions. She had enough problems considering she was so short. Long hair could come later, when she was strong enough for it not to matter.

And girls sometimes had short hair. She just needed to make sure it wasn't a really boyish haircut. She couldn't wear girl clothes anyway, so it wasn't like it would ruin the image of her as a girl. She could just grow it out when she hit puberty. She'd be in ANBU then, she'd be able to handle it.

A part of her chafed against it — she had nothing in this life to remind her of what she really was other than her memories, and it was...difficult to keep that feeling within herself. In her own way, her long hair was a sign of what she had been.

She'd bled, sweated and cried to get where she was, and it had been ripped from her in an instant.

She didn't want to say she was ungrateful, and she wasn't truly starting from square one, as she knew for absolute certain that she was female, but it would be worth it, in the end.

"Enough wasting time! Let's do this!" her cousin shouted, as he activated his sharingan.

"Alright. Genjutsu tag?" Itachi asked. Genjutsu tag was the game they'd devised to compete in the shinobi art of illusion. To win, Itachi needed to poke Shisui's forehead, or vice versa. Obviously, genjutsu was the only ninja art allowed, to make the contest more fair. Shisui had a definitive advantage, because of the sharingan, but Itachi was more naturally talented at genjutsu.

"You got it! The academy three allowed?" They usually varied in allowing the basic ninjutsu, simply because they were so useful when combined with illusions — misdirection was useful, even when it wasn't necessarily because of a genjutsu, or even from a chakra-based technique at all.

"Not so near Mom's garden," Itachi replied. Shisui nodded. It wasn't a terrible idea to avoid that, anyway, because kaa-san's garden wasn't always the safest place in the universe — there was a reason that Sasuke wasn't allowed near it, after all.

"Ready?" her cousin asked, widening his stance, slightly.

"Set," Itachi replied, flexing her fingers, as if she were about to launch into hand seals.

"Go!" they shouted in unison.

Itachi instantly averted her gaze to Shisui's central body mass. An integral part of defeating the sharingan in a contest of genjutsu was to never actually look at it. It wasn't a sure thing, but actually looking at Shisui's eyes would more or less lose her the fight.

One of the real drawbacks, of this, however, was that Itachi could no longer see where Shisui was looking, and thus, had to work off instinct to tell whether or not he was distracted or not.

So she flicked through a series of hand-seals, and tossed out a genjutsu that hid her from view by summoning a storm of leaves, obscuring Shisui's vision. Itachi moved slightly to the left, and then set up the illusion of a bush opposite of her starting position, to the right of where she had originally stood.

Shisui, however, had flashed through as series of a hand seals, and Itachi was faced with four different Shisuis, all with sharingan blazing. It wasn't obvious at first glance which one was real, and Itachi's eyes flicked to and fro, studiously ignoring the red glare coming from each set of eyes. It was frustrating, and she felt her first genjutsu break almost immediately.

Itachi cursed in her head. The clones were good — they couldn't be bunshin, and the illusion was good enough that she risked looking into their eyes if she took the time to parse out which one was the original.

That left two options: brute-force dispelling the clone genjutsu, or injuring herself to dispel it, neither of which were optimal. There was, however, an important benefit to physical pain as the method for dispel.

Her second genjutsu broke.

Which meant there wasn't much time, if she was going to gamble. After a set of hand seals, a great black dragon flew forward, and scattered the Shisui clones.

Itachi then whipped out a kunai, and stabbed her hand with it. Shisui appeared, a few feet away, and Itachi dropped the kunai, before darting forward with a hand outstretched. His eyes widened, briefly, and he dodged to the side. Itachi's followup hit also missed, but that was more from the lack of coordination from her throbbing hand than his speed. She sidestepped his return move, dancing out of range.

His eyes flashed again with the doujutsu, but the genjutsu had barely taken hold before Itachi flexed her hand and it shattered. She took advantage of that fact and darted forward to nail Shisui with two fingers right in the forehead protector.

He stumbled a bit, but recovered quickly, cursing. " _Fuck_."

"Language," Mikoto chided gently from the sideline.

"Good spar," Itachi said, picking up her kunai and assessing the damage. She'd cut herself somewhat deeply, and the wound was oozing blood. Mikoto appeared with bandages, and Itachi briefly wondered where she'd gotten them. Maybe a mom thing. Or a ninja thing. Or a ninja mom thing, now that she thought about it.

"Here, Itachi." Itachi obediently moved to her mother, and held out her injured hand.

Her mother started working on her hand, but her eyes moved between Itachi and Shisui. "You know, one of my specialties as a jounin was genjutsu, so when I say this, I'm not just saying this because I'm your mother, or part of your clan. You two are both very impressive at genjutsu, and I think that there are a decent number of chuunin that wouldn't have been able to handle the kinds of things you were using."

"Thank you," Itachi said, shooting Shisui an 'I told you so' look. He didn't seem convinced, but Mikoto stared him down.

"I'm proud of you. Both of you. Shisui, measuring your progress against Itachi is silly, and self-defeating. If my son sometimes wins your spars, it doesn't mean you didn't perform well. In fact, it most likely means you performed admirably, because you won some of the time. Instead of worrying about not measuring up to Itachi, look at the rest of the genin you know," Mikoto lectured. Itachi carefully left any of her frustration with the label of 'son' off her face.

"Alright," Shisui acquiesced. "I'm better than my teammates, at least."

"Good. Now, genjutsu is an oft-overlooked discipline, and it is underutilized by many shinobi because of the lack of killing potential, but with the sharingan, it is undoubtedly a potent tool. If you like, Shisui, I can show you some of what I know about using your eyes to greatest effect."

"I would," he said, grinning.

"Good. Let's start with dispelling, because I noticed you both could have been better," Mikoto said. "What methods do the two of you use?"

Shisui seemed to be getting a bit of the wind back in his sails, because he perked up a bit. "The sharingan. It's not an instant solution, but it's really easy to spot imperfections with it."

Part of the reason why the sharingan was such an advantage in combat was its attention to detail. The same mechanism that made it so famous — the attention to detail that it granted that allowed the user to copy another's techniques, even after seeing them only once — could ferret out the smallest discrepancy in a genjutsu or henge. As an anti-illusion tool, it was useful for that point alone.

But where the sharingan really shone was the way it allowed a skilled user to cast genjutsu purely with eye contact. That, by itself, made illusions possible to seamlessly weave into a fighting style without sacrificing other aspects of combat.

Most people who didn't have sharingan couldn't casually add genjutsu into their repertoire. Not that the doujutsu came with instant mastery of the art, rather, it simply eliminated some of the drawbacks that came with using it in a high-speed ninja battle. It wasn't useless without it, either — it obviated the need for hand seals. There was a reason that seal-less techniques were regarded as an achievement.

"But how do you dispel it?" Mikoto questioned, slipping into full-on instructor mode.

"There's something other than 'kai?'" Itachi asked.

Her mother smiled. "Of course. The sharingan can dispel genjutsu almost as well as 'kai.' Since our eyes are activated by infusing them with chakra, there are some similarities between that and flushing foreign chakra from the system. But what's important to the sharingan is _visualization_. Think of this method of dispelling as even more focused than 'kai,' on the other side of the spectrum from physical pain."

One of the keys to combatting genjutsu, was, of course, recognizing the illusion. Only stabbing oneself truly cleared everything right away — the chakra-powered method needed a little more focus. To do it 'blind,' when one knew that they were under a genjutsu, but absolutely nothing more than that, was always inefficient and often ineffective, and therefore a subpar option.

Unhelpfully, however, a concentrated dispel that targeted an illusion dispelled that illusion, and nothing else. It also required _concentration_ , which, while under the effects of a genjutsu, was sometimes hard to come by. In fact, one could make a decent argument that the ideal genjutsu distracted the target so thoroughly that they wouldn't be able to muster the wherewithal to dispel it, and have to be pulled out of it by an ally, or injure themselves to escape.

A thought then occurred to Itachi, so she voiced it. "What about auditory or olfactory genjutsu?"

Mikoto smiled. "The sharingan doesn't work on those, and there is no equivalent technique."

"No?" Shisui asked. "Wouldn't you just channel chakra to your ears, instead of your eyes?"

"But the reason that this works in the first place is that we, as Uchiha, have particularly developed chakra coils behind our eyes. It's how we can channel chakra to them, and activate and deactivate our doujutsu. We don't have those in our ears or or nose, and most people don't have them in their eyes, making this ability to manipulate genjutsu unique to the Uchiha," she clarified.

"Ah," Itachi said. "Are non-visual genjutsu very common?"

"We haven't found any!" Shisui piped up from beside her.

"No, they aren't. A number of them require something more than just simple hand seals, as well. It's easier to make both these kinds of techniques with an aid, like an instrument."

Their discussion was interrupted by the arrival of a toddler Sasuke, who brightened immediately on as soon as he stepped out the door. "Mom! Tachi-nii! Shishi!"

"Oh, Sasuke…" Mikoto said quietly, going into mom-mode in a heartbeat.

"Mom," Itachi said. "I'll play with Sasuke. You were going to help teach Shisui some more genjutsu, right?"

"Are you sure, Itachi?" Shisui asked. "I don't need to learn stuff right now. I can always wait."

"No," Itachi put her foot down. "You two will work on genjutsu, and I will occupy Sasuke."

Mikoto silently asked the same question with her eyes, but Itachi smiled reassuringly.

Then she turned and said, "Hey, little brother. How are you?"

Sasuke exclaimed, "Good!" and grinned at her and held up his hands, asking to be picked up.

She leaned down and scooped him up, saying, "Well, Sasuke-chan, did you know that I got a new team?"

Her little brother gurgled happily in her arms and said, "Good!" Huh. Well, he wasn't wrong.

Looking over at Mikoto and Shisui, she couldn't see much movement, but both had their sharingan activated and were engaged in an intense-looking staredown a few feet away.

"Well, how about while Mom is busy, I tell you about my new teammates? How does that sound?"

"Good!"

Itachi couldn't help the fond smile from breaking out on her face at her little brother's exuberance, as they watched Mikoto and Shisui train genjutsu with the sharingan. She didn't even mind that they hadn't talked about strategies for Katsu-sensei's test at all, either.

* * *

Itachi wasn't very surprised to see that she wasn't the first person on the training field the next morning. She was only fifteen minutes early, after all.

Punctuality was sort of strange to her, because Itachi as a person was both an early riser and early to everything, which was a complete reversal from her past life. It was sometimes strange to wrap her head around stuff like that — things that she remembered being difficult being incredibly easy, or vice versa. It seemed really obvious — she got tired early and woke up early, and set aside plenty of time to get to her destinations, and it was extremely easy to not be late to things. And yet, she had memories of being constantly toeing the line to tardy, even in her adult life.

However, Itachi had to admit that she was surprised to find Kane instead of Yuugao waiting for her when she arrived at training ground sixteen. Though, if she considered it, Kane might be turning over a new leaf now that he'd made genin. She'd see if it lasted.

"Hello," she greeted him.

"Itachi-san!" he exclaimed. "Good morning! And you cut your hair!"

"I did," Itachi agreed. "I'm a genin now, so long hair will be a significant hindrance. I can grow it out longer when I become strong enough to compensate for the disadvantage."

"Of course, that makes sense. I like having short hair anyway, so I didn't even need to think about that." Kane's hair was somewhat shaggy, falling around his face.

Itachi just nodded, and they fell silent. They were still strangers to each other. Simply becoming teammates didn't also make them friends. Plus, she didn't really want to think about her hair, anyway. She'd cut it, but she was already second-guessing that decision. It felt too short, and her head felt naked.

Itachi couldn't tell him that, of course. She wasn't sure what to say, because she _did_ want to talk to him, but she wasn't the best at initiating conversation.

So she tried with what she knew. "I honestly didn't expect you here this early."

He shrugged. "I got woken up by...well, I couldn't get back to sleep. So I came a little early to try and get some training in beforehand."

"Mhmmm," Itachi said. She wasn't sure what to say then, either, so they lapsed into silence again.

Training Ground Sixteen was one of the more wooded areas that she'd seen — they'd met in a small clearing that served as one of the few oases in the ocean of trees that took up the training ground. She could hear running water somewhere, as well, and the foliage wasn't consistently dense — some of the forest was only lightly forested, instead of the thick trees that surrounded Konoha.

The silence lasted for a few minutes before Kane asked, "Do you have any idea what the test is going to be like?"

Itachi considered that. She'd spent a decent amount of time considering that the night before, and Mikoto's endorsement of Katsu-sensei meant that he was likely to a be decent teacher.

While she couldn't necessarily offer any real answers, she could at least point him in what she thought was the right direction.

"He will already understand our physical capabilities and skills. The academy instructors have undoubtedly compiled an extensive report on us, which he will have read before today."

Kane's brow furrowed. "Okay. So he'll test us on something else?"

"I believe so. If I'm correct, the test will have two levels — on the surface, it will be a test of our skills. But, in reality, it will test our personalities — our resolve. We were tested on our physical capabilities a week ago. If they were inadequate, we would not be genin. This is the jounin's test — he already knows we are capable. He now needs to find out if we are worthy of his instruction."

Kane looked exceedingly thoughtful. "So, we have to look like a student he wants to teach," he said.

Itachi agreed. "Yes. I believe so. But probably most importantly, we need to be on the lookout for the fact that this test will very likely not be straightforward."

"How so?" Both of them turned to look at the new speaker. Yuugao walked forward into the clearing, looking considerably less chipper than usual. She didn't look like a morning person.

"Itachi thinks that it'll be a test within a test," Kane offered. Yuugao scrutinized at Itachi, thoughtful.

"I think our jounin-sensei will wish to test if we will be worthy students," Itachi said.

"Huh," was her eloquent response. "I guess we'll see."

Katsu-sensei chose that moment to appear in a cloud of smoke.

"Hello," he said.

"Katsu-sensei!" Kane cheered. "You're here."

"It is time for your test," the jounin pronounced.

Yuugao smirked, Kane beamed, and Itachi allowed herself to revel in the anticipation.

Here it was — the jounin test. It wasn't necessarily an enormous deal by itself, but there was something holding her back from being an official genin. That wouldn't go away until she passed this test.

She'd be an almost-genin until she'd proven herself. In a way, it echoed that uncomfortable feeling of being an almost-girl. She was cognizant enough to realize that the only person allowed to judge whether she was female or not was herself, but it still rankled that she'd never _really_ be a girl in the way that people that were born girls were.

It might've only been a difference in her head, but it was still a difference. The same with her status as a genin — she was an official genin, but there was still some undercurrent of doubt, since she could conceivably fail here.

But she was Uchiha Itachi. Uchiha Itachi didn't know the meaning of failure.

Therefore, she had to succeed. She _had_ to, because she wouldn't be able to face her family or Shisui, knowing she'd failed.

"What do we have to do, sensei?" she asked.

"It's quite simple," he said. "You have to catch me. I will be somewhere in this training ground, and you have until noon." He pulled out an alarm clock, and set it. That didn't sound _impossible_ , but it would be harder than it looked. Itachi was sure of that.

"Of course, what you do when you catch me, well, that'll be a different kind of test," he continued, pulling a massive black spiked club from apparently nowhere. Oh, shit.

"But, you'll have to catch me first." Then, he vanished. This wasn't going to be easy, that was for sure.


	7. Failure

Itachi had to admit that she hadn't really seen this coming. Perhaps it had been single-minded of her, but she'd had the bell test thoroughly cemented in her mind as what a jounin's test _should_ be. To put it another way, Itachi had prepared for a fight. Which was all well and good, but it looked like there was a significant portion of the test that she hadn't prepared for.

Yuugao took one glance at them, and was gone, chasing after Katsu-sensei. That wasn't ideal. If this test was anything like Kakashi's had been in that other story, they would need her.

So she didn't waste any time in shouting, "Come on!" and bounding after her. Itachi looked backwards as she went, where Kane was just standing there, looking confused.

He didn't look like he was moving, so Itachi stopped her mad dash after Yuugao before it really began with a sigh. They were split up already, which was less than ideal. Kane would probably much easier to convince to work together, all things considered.

Kane looked at her. "She just took off like that?"

Itachi replied, "I suppose so. My theory about teamwork is, after all, just that — a theory."

"But you still think that we should look together?"

"Yes," she said. "If not together, we should at least coordinate our search."

Kane nodded. "I can do that."

"Do you know any tracking techniques?" Itachi asked.

"No," he admitted, cheeks coloring.

"It's fine," she reassured him. "I don't really know any either."

"I suppose we just stay within shouting distance and look for him?" Kane asked.

"That will work. Now, let's not waste too much time," Itachi said, bounding off into the woods once again.

She could hear Kane following her. There wasn't an obvious way to find Katsu-sensei, so they'd have to take the time and search the whole of the training ground — which was surprisingly large when they needed to find a jounin who didn't want to be found.

Itachi kept a decent pace through the trees, looking to the left and right, searching for Katsu-sensei. Here, her clan's doujutsu would be incredibly useful, if she had it. But she didn't, so she had to make due with more mundane methods of sensing her sensei. It wasn't the first time that she'd wished she had the sharingan, but there was no use forcing it when she was confident she'd develop it soon enough, and there were other benefits to waiting, too. Getting the doujutsu too early could be detrimental in the long run, because she wanted to know the basics on her own merits — to learn the important things the mundane way, rather than just copying them into her brain using her eyes.

Unfortunately, while basic tracking was taught in the academy, it was the kind of tracking that was more about finding people that had left obvious trails, like civilians stumbling in the middle of the woods on a clear day. Not elite jounin-sensei that didn't want to be followed in a training ground that they had chosen.

Which left Itachi and Kane to try and find him the old-fashioned way, running through the forest and physically looking for him. It wasn't getting them anywhere. For all the success they were having, they might as well have been shouting his name. It would probably have been just as effective.

After fifteen minutes of fruitlessly jogging through trees, Itachi stopped.

"This isn't working."

Kane nodded, panting hard from exertion. "We should split up. I know you said that he might be testing us in other ways, but we're not going to find him if we take too long."

Itachi sighed. She'd hoped that Katsu-sensei's task would be enough like Kakashi's that she'd be able to game it properly, but there was nothing she could do. Kane was right — they needed to split up.

"Fine. But you call me if you find him, or need help, got it? And keep an eye out for Yuugao."

Kane nodded, and took off. Itachi turned, to keep searching in another direction. Still, she couldn't keep the doubts from her mind. Katsu-sensei had practically forced them to split up by hiding so well, and yet he'd implied they'd have to fight him at the end. What was his game?

* * *

Yuugao cursed under her breath. An hour already gone, and she'd found nothing, not even a trace of her teammates. The training ground wasn't tiny by any stretch of the imagination, but it wasn't so large she couldn't search the entire thing in an hour.

Or, that's what she had thought. But by that logic, she should have been done by now. She was getting worried. Not for the first time, she wondered if wandering off was the right idea.

It was too late now, however. There was absolutely no way that she was going to go up to that smug fucking Uchiha and admit that she didn't know how to find Honda Katsu. Uzuki Yuugao was going to succeed, and she didn't need anyone but herself.

Her sisters had succeeded fine without relying on their teammates, there was no reason she wouldn't be able to. And that way, she wouldn't have to bother with Itachi, anyway. She had to admit, too, that it wasn't even that Itachi would be smug about it — he probably wouldn't be smug at all, in fact. That was the problem — she'd have to put up with his insufferably understanding attitude about it. He wouldn't rub it in her face, or gloat, or anything. And if he could be better than her, it was just unfair that he had to be _nicer_ about it, as well.

It wasn't like she could find either of her teammates, anyway.

In fact, she was having trouble finding anyone in the entire training ground.

It was beyond frustrating, and she was beginning to wonder whether the test wasn't as straightforward as it seemed. 'A test within a test,' Kane had said. It galled her, but she was starting to wish she had caught Kane and Itachi's earlier conversation.

Itachi at the very least could be considered the most impressive shinobi of their generation, and she could admit that it was foolish to disregard him as useless, even if she wasn't totally sold on Kane yet.

And, strangely enough, as soon as she conclusively decided to seek out her teammates, she heard very faintly the sound of footsteps.

"Hello?" she called out.

"Yuugao?" Kane answered. "Have you found sensei yet?"

"No," she admitted bitterly.

"Ahh, well, neither of us have had any luck, either."

That at least made her feel better.

He continued, "And hey, look, there's something Itachi said earlier that I've been thinking about."

Yuugao rolled her eyes. Of course it was Itachi.

"What did he say?" she asked irritably.

"Well, look at it like this: he and I don't know how to find Katsu-sensei other than just physically looking for him."

Yuugao nodded, they hadn't really learned anything more than that in the academy.

Kane continued, "But that's the thing. Katsu-sensei is a jounin. He's perfectly capable of hiding himself from a bunch of kids fresh out of the academy."

She frowned and looked at him. "What's your point?"

"It's not about us tracking him. It's about something else."

"You mean...we're not going to find him until he lets us," Yuugao finally caught on.

"Exactly!" he said, enthused. "So there's something we have to do before he'll let us find him."

"And you think that's...what?"

"We have to work together!" he cried.

Yuugao considered it. They were her teammates, and she would have to work with them eventually, so she might as well start now.

"So, what, we just all look for him in one group and we'll suddenly find him?" she asked.

"Well, when you put it like that...yes, actually," Kane said thoughtfully. "The test isn't about us knowing how to track — he already knows that. The test is about whether we're willing to work together."

"I don't have a better plan," she admitted. "Where's Itachi?"

* * *

Itachi wandered through the training ground, feeling thoroughly useless. She'd been totally unable to do anything even slightly more helpful than her team members, and thus was just walking through the forest.

Calling out had felt foolish, and she'd given it up after only a few minutes at it. Somehow, abandoning all pretense of locating Katsu-sensei with her own skills felt wrong to her. She was a ninja, and even if she knew logically that she couldn't expect to win every fight, she didn't want to fail this early. She was Itachi, and she had trained for years.

She was supposed to be better than this.

And perhaps the worst part of it was that while she knew intellectually that the test was deceptive, she hadn't even been able to communicate that well to her teammates — Yuugao had taken off right away, and even Kane hadn't really stuck around much longer. Itachi had to wonder whether he was humoring her or not.

Itachi knew that other Itachi had been skilled...but this was insane. Was she somehow foolish for expecting to live up to him? She'd been smart in that other life, but no genius. And while she was far beyond her peers in the academy, was that so exceptional when they were children, and young ones at that, while she was an adult?

All of this new life, she'd been told she was special, exceptional. But what if she wasn't, at least when compared to the original? What would happen if she was unable to live up to that legacy? What if the responsibility for the massacre fell on someone else's shoulders?

Itachi couldn't let that happen.

She slowly reached up and untied her headband. Holding it in her hand, she stared at the stylized leaf design etched into the metal. She was a ninja, but that in itself wasn't enough.

She suddenly felt sick and tired, and far too old for a seven-year-old. A part of her realized that she was being unreasonable, and that getting upset over this was _dumb_ , but that didn't help the feeling of complete uselessness that overwhelmed her.

Itachi wondered if she truly deserved any of this — this brilliance, this talent, this family, any of it. She wasn't that special — sometimes she felt like the only thing she could truly claim was to be reasonably intelligent.

And did she even deserve to be a ninja at all, or was that just her riding on the talents of the man she'd replaced? Was it even fair for her to -

"Itachi?" she started, and looked up. Kane was standing there, Yuugao next to him. Itachi felt her cheeks redden a bit, at chastised herself for not paying any attention.

"What's going on?" she asked, more to cover for being caught off guard like that. She surreptitiously replaced her headband, and Kane didn't comment on it.

"We're going to look for him together," Kane said. "If the three of us look in a group, we'll find him."

Itachi considered that as she felt her lips turn up in a smile. If nothing else, it was worth trying, and perhaps Kane hadn't merely humored her after all.

"Alright," she agreed.

"This had better work, Kane," Yuugao warned.

"Don't worry," Kane replied. "It's a good idea, it'll work."

Yuugao didn't say anything in response, but she didn't look entirely convinced.

Itachi just gestured and said, "Lead on."

Kane nodded, and set off into the deeper part of the woods. Itachi and Yuugao fell into step behind him.

Itachi was surprised to realize that Kane was walking through the training ground with a definite sense of purpose. If she didn't know better, she would have been sure that he knew exactly where he was going. That honestly wasn't all that likely, but the way he moved made her doubt her perception that he was as clueless as her and Yuugao.

They walked quietly for a time, Kane leading and the other two trailing after him.

The training ground was picturesque in the morning air. It was almost idyllic, and Itachi had to regret that she was far too worked up to appreciate it. So while she did acknowledge the fact that it was a really nice day and they were walking through a particularly fine piece of forest, it wasn't something she could sit down and truly appreciate.

After a few minutes of tense silence, their instructor appeared. He genuinely appeared, too, almost out of thin air, melting out of the shadows of the forest silently. Itachi started slightly, but her teammates almost jumped a foot in surprise.

"Katsu-sensei!" Kane exclaimed.

"Kane. Yuugao. Itachi," Their instructor intoned. "Your time is up."

"What?" Itachi was saying before she even realized it. "So soon?" She had no way of telling time beyond her own perception, which was usually pretty good.

Their sensei grinned, a surprisingly reptilian expression. "It is noon. You've failed."

Itachi narrowed her eyes at him. She didn't think for a second he meant that they were heading back to the academy.

Her teammates, however, didn't have such confidence.

"What? That's so unfair!" Kane protested, while Yuugao's mouth just flapped open uselessly.

"It's the truth," their sensei replied.

"But—"

"But nothing. You all have failed. Admit it."

Itachi stared at Katsu-sensei. Was he serious? She didn't think he was. Beside her, Kane was muttering under his breath and Yuugao seemed frozen, unable to process it.

Itachi, however, wasn't nearly so paralyzed. They hadn't really failed, after all. Internally, she urged Katsu-sensei to get on it with it. But he didn't. Instead he just impassively stared back, eyes blandly taking in each of them in turn.

She had to reconsider. Did he really want them to admit it outright? That seemed a little...much, particularly since they were set up to fail.

"I...failed, sensei." Itachi's head snapped to Kane, who had spoken in a small voice. Katsu smiled at him, a small, genuine thing.

"Yes, yes, you've all failed. Admitting it is the first step to fixing it. I'm disappointed. Maybe you aren't ready to become genin, after all."

Kane was now looking horrified, while the purple-haired girl had gone from denial to horror.

"You can't!" Yuugao denied. "That was too hard, that's not a real test, it's not fair!"

"So? Do you think the life of a ninja is fair, little girl? Do you think that an enemy would only kill you if it was fair?"

Yuugao had gone red, but she didn't say anything. Itachi stood there awkwardly, as she figured that echoing her teammate's point would be pointless, so there really wasn't all that much she could say.

"And you," Katsu-sensei turned on Itachi. "Do you think your name will save you, Uchiha? Do you think that fancy fan on your shirt would stop an enemy ninja from carving out your eyes as trophies after stabbing you in the back?"

"No—" Itachi started indignantly, but was quickly interrupted.

"Then you've all _failed_!" their teacher shouted. "It doesn't matter how fair it is, or how much of an advantage your opponent has. A failure is a failure."

He stopped, and let that statement percolate.

"If I had wanted it, all of you would be dead. That fact is inarguable, is it not?" They stared at him, until Kane nodded. "Now, the truest test of a ninja is what they do now. When you fail, when you give everything of yourself and come up short, what comes next?"

It was only after Kane replied that Itachi realized that the question hadn't been rhetorical at all.

"You get up and try again," Kane said.

"If you're not dead," Yuugao added dryly.

Then their sensei cracked a smile. "Of course you do. Now, since you've failed, I'm not so sure that I want you as my students. To make it up to me, you're going to start by showing me just how much you are willing to work hard to improve. I think we'll start with twenty-five laps around Konoha." He grinned, and Itachi could see how much he was enjoying this.

What a sadist.

"Go."

* * *

Kane's face was a picture of agony. Itachi, next to him, felt little better, and Yuugao completed their trio, looking like the textbook definition of 'trying not to look like she was about to keel over.'

"Alright," Kane said, slumping down in the middle of the street. "Let's stop here for the night. We can make for the summit in the morning."

Itachi giggled. Yuugao tried not to, but she snorted with laughter too.

"Hey, there's dango. Let's stop for dango," Itachi said. "You know, for energy."

Kane moaned, "Sweet sweet dango. Where have you been all my life?"

Yuugao didn't audibly voice her support of the idea, but she did begin to stagger in that direction. Itachi and Kane nodded at each other, and stumbled forward to follow.

They shambled into the shop, the soreness making their movements jerky and awkward. Katsu had made them run all of those laps as a warm up to the most hellishly difficult workout Itachi had ever experienced. There was no way she would have been able to motivate herself to do that without her legitimately intimidating jounin instructor doing his best drill sergeant impression overhead.

Still, there was something to be said for their brutal workout regimen. Itachi was grateful for that, and she could imagine that it was a big reason for both their jounin-sensei's physique and her family's approval of him. That, and the fact that he used that war club were obvious endorsements of his physical prowess.

Truth be told, Itachi was very much looking forward to learning from Katsu-sensei after their ridiculous workout. She respected him far more than she would have if he had let them off easy.

Inside the dango shop, Kane seemed strangely put out about something. He kept fidgeting and leaning away from Itachi. So she gave up on leaning on him, and staggered to one of the tables. Her companions slumped down next to her, and no one looked motivated to get up.

Itachi considered for a second, and said, "What do you guys want? I'll get it."

Yuugao pulled out a small wallet, but Kane's went wide and he glanced over at the money warily. "I'm good," he said quickly.

Yuugao seemed too tired to care, but Itachi held out a hand. "I'm buying," she offered.

"Thanks," Yuugao said.

"No, I'm good," Kane sputtered, eyes wide and hands fidgety.

Itachi's eyes narrowed. "You're sure?"

"Yes." Yuugao was giving him a strange look, but Kane remained resolute even as his face turned red.

Itachi frowned. Then, she just turned away, and bought herself an extra portion, which she plopped down on the table and pushed towards Kane. Yuugao tried to pay her again, but Itachi just shook her head.

"It's my treat," she explained. "Because we're teammates now."

Kane, too, looked uncomfortable, and he made no move to comment. Yuugao looked between the two of them, seemingly waiting for the situation to play out.

Kane steeled himself, and then he pushed the dango away. "I don't need your charity."

Itachi sighed. She knew how he felt, even if there was no way Itachi Uchiha could know. As much as she wanted to tell Kane that she really did get it, she couldn't.

"I — look, the Uchiha do just fine. We're one of the larger clans in Konoha, and I get...well, I get a lot of allowance, and all the shinobi tools I ask for. My mother cooks plenty, too, so we have more than enough money." Kane's expression got more closed off the more she tried to explain. "I spend most of my money on dango anyway — you know what? I'm horrible at this," she admitted, and Kane's expression shifted so he looked mildly concussed.

Itachi floundered for something to say for a bit while Yuugao looked on like she was watching something equal parts thrilling and captivating.

Finally, Itachi just said, "How about this? You can pay me back after our first mission, then."

Kane just frowned at him, clearly mulling over the suggestion. "I suppose...that works. But I am going to pay you back."

"Good," she said. "Now eat."

For a few minutes, there was nothing but silence as all three of them munched, now that the accord had been reached. Itachi, for one, was too tired to initiate conversation.

Kane had wolfed down his food like a stray cat, and then sat disconsolately staring at his plate. "That's the problem. Now that I've sat down, moving is going to be twice as hard now."

Itachi smiled, and Yuugao chuckled.

"I've got to get going," Yuugao said. "My sisters promised to take me out to celebratory dinner today if I passed. Thanks for the dango, Itachi."

Itachi nodded, and considered that she should also get going. Her family would undoubtedly like to know very much that she had passed Katsu-sensei's test, and the sun was already starting to lean down in the sky.

Yuugao got up laboriously, and stalked out of the shop.

Itachi turned to Kane, who said again, "I'm really going to pay you back, Itachi."

She smiled, the motion feeling a bit strange and unfamiliar. "I believe you. But I've got to get going — I've got to meet my family, as well."

"Ahh. You should go do that, then," he returned her smile, if at bit wanly.

She placed both hands on the table very carefully, and then stood up, wincing. "Don't stay here all night," she cautioned. "In fact, you should probably walk home and do some more stretches. And eat a bunch of protein."

He looked like he was mulling it over for a bit, and then he nodded. "Thanks." Kane lifted his head to meet her eyes, and she could see the honesty in his next words: "I'm glad we're teammates."

"Me too."

* * *

Things settled into a routine for a short few weeks then — Itachi got up, exhausted herself at team practice, and then dragged herself home. The brutal workouts continued in similar fashion, even graduating from simply tests of their physical fitness to include practice of their basic ninja skills — throwing weapons, spars, basic ninjutsu. In a way, it was like the academy, but so much more intense.

Itachi was almost sure that it had to actually be unhealthy for her to work out this much at seven, but that wasn't the kind of opinion she was really able to voice, mostly because she wasn't sure anyone else thought that way. Did they? Neither Mikoto nor Fugaku seemed concerned, and they both knew all of her workouts — Fugaku had, in fact, begun to plan their workouts around her team training, so he had to know.

Itachi figured that chakra really did mean that people here were different enough biologically that it would be foolish to hold onto assumptions. She didn't know better — she was a fresh genin, and they were adults that had all had significant enough careers to be promoted to jounin.

But she still couldn't help bringing it up to Mikoto one night, as they were talking about the best way to pack for trips out of the village — when to bring camping equipment, and when to not bother. Itachi's mother had laughed off the complaint, simply saying, "There isn't enough exercise in the world to stop you from growing up."

So, she worked as hard as she could to keep up with her teammates in their daily physical conditioning. No matter how smart or clever or naturally talented Itachi was, a seven-year-old was not as physically or developmentally advanced as a ten-year-old. She was undoubtedly more skilled than Kane and she had a definite edge on Yuugao, but their size and their greater conditioning made the matches more even than Itachi's genius status might imply.

That was why Shisui always beat her in physical spars, as well. She had him in genjutsu skill, but he had a sharingan, and ninja tools were always pretty evenly split, but in a straight taijutsu bout, she rarely had the upper hand. This often meant that their spars were enormously competitive, and Itachi would be the first to admit that she would not be half as skilled as she was without him constantly pushing her to improve.

Itachi found herself falling into a routine — a workout with her team, and then usually a break to eat with them, or play with Sasuke, and then another training session with either Shisui or Fugaku before a dinner with her family. She usually ended her days with study of a new technique or reading, or an impromptu lesson on the shinobi lifestyle and a remedy to the numerous bruises, blisters, and cuts she received from the intense training regimen from Mikoto.

It was both exhausting and fulfilling, if she was being honest. Itachi was the kind of person that performed best with a full schedule of tasks she found worthwhile — and the task of becoming a better shinobi was both. The world needed an Uchiha Sasuke, and the brighter her star shone, the more Sasuke would strive to chase it. It was perhaps callous of her, but as she benefitted from Shisui's friendly rivalry, she felt she understood Naruto and Sasuke's more antagonistic one. Naruto needed Sasuke. And Itachi had no illusions about not needing Naruto.

The month after their genin test, their sensei brought them to the Hokage tower for their first D-rank. Itachi had expected this — even if she thought it would come sooner, she'd come to realize that Kakashi wasn't typical in terms of a jounin-sensei, and to expect that Katsu would be the same was another assumption. Itachi couldn't afford to operate with faulty assumptions — if she was too casual about letting the things she thought she knew decide her actions, she'd already lost.

The D-Ranks were almost not worth mentioning — Itachi and her teammates weeded gardens, walked dogs, shopped for old ladies, caught particularly stroppy cats, and generally did a number of meaningless tasks that were designed to encourage teamwork and foster cooperation. They were generally miserable, and the mutual suffering, if nothing else, did relax the tone of their interactions a bit.

And that's all that needed to be said on the matter.

The busy schedule did have another hidden benefit, in that she was far too busy and far too exhausted at the end of the day to spend too much time agonizing over the body problem. Itachi did get a chance to peruse both the public library and the clan library shortly after she became a genin. She could find nothing about changing a person's sex.

It was a profound disappointment — not in the sense that she expected it to be that easy — but she realized something as she pored over scrolls in the musty, stale room.

Shinobi had little use for such things — not when the Henge existed. It was too useful a tool, too perfect an illusion. What would the point of a technique that would cause permanent, long-term changes to a person when everything they needed to disguise themselves was taught in the Academy? In a world where even the least skilled soldier could create a complete illusion, there was no need for that kind of body modification — no reason for anyone to devote time and effort to the task of developing it.

In fact, she had no idea if gender identity was even a thing in this world. She'd never heard about it or see any evidence of it. Homosexuality existed, but it wasn't widely stigmatized — among a clan like the Uchiha, there were some arranged marriages, but they weren't the norm. By all appearances, people married and had children for love. If they were gay, they usually did those things with people of the same gender. It was a commonplace, unremarkable thing. A gay clan head would be more or less expected to have a kid somehow, but that was the extent of tradition dictating that kind of lifestyle.

So Itachi faced a choice — she knew it would be at least possible to change one's sex with chakra — it did many things more impossible and fantastic than that, after all. The most obvious solution would be to learn medical jutsu. It was entirely within her capabilities — Itachi had very good chakra control, and was more than intelligent enough to handle the material. And if medical science didn't have an answer to her problem, she would be in the best position to develop one.

But becoming a med-nin came with its own slew of problems. Itachi was the heir to the Uchiha. While Mikoto might be fine with her not becoming a frontline combatant, Fugaku had all but demanded that she become ANBU. He would probably be grossly unhappy with that kind of decision, and while Itachi knew that she could defy him if she wanted to, her life would be significantly more complicated by doing so. And she had no guarantee of learning Tsunade's strength techniques, meaning that medical jutsu might leave her too weak to play her role in the events to come.

Plus, if she was being honest with herself, Itachi didn't really want to learn medical jutsu. She wasn't unwilling, but it was by no means her first choice. That felt like something of a contingency plan, honestly.

She could also just try to develop a jutsu on her own, whole cloth. It would be horrendously difficult, and she was less sure of her success, but it wasn't impossible. She could do it if she wanted it enough — and she did. But she wasn't sure if she could do it in time, or that she could count on understanding the mechanics without some kind of formalized training.

The easy solution would be to approach someone like Tsunade of the Sannin — if anyone would have a solution, it would be her. But she was currently drinking her way through Fire Country, and Itachi had no idea how to find her, if such a thing was even possible. Similarly, Orochimaru would likely have a technique that could alter his appearance — not that Itachi would be willing to pay the price he would demand.

There were no easy solutions, no obvious paths. Itachi hated to admit it, but she realized that there was so little she could do, other than throw herself harder into her training. So she did — Itachi trained as hard as she could, day in and day out.

And if at the end of the day, she still looked in the mirror at her body, a man's body in miniature, all wiry, corded strength and pale elegance, and was disgusted, she was too tired to linger, too exhausted to dwell on such things.

And for now — for now, that was enough.


	8. Murder and Mystery in Futatsuhama, pt I

Itachi sprinted down the street, her legs churning with the effort. Because of Katsu-sensei's extensive training routines, she didn't even feel the strain of her muscles going into oxygen debt. Instead, every movement was calm, smooth, and efficient.

It wouldn't do to be late on the team's first C-rank outside of the mission.

Itachi approached a corner, the angle too tight to make it around the bend without slowing down. Instead, she sped up and leapt, attaching chakra to her feet and sprinting along the vertical surface of the fence, stride still easy and even. Chakra was so _cool_.

Of course, there were a lot more uses for it than glorified parkour, but that was half the fun of physics-bending powers: using them for completely average and mundane tasks, like the time Mikoto walked up the wall to dust the top of the blades of the ceiling fan. Itachi could probably have gotten to her destination just as fast by simply sprinting across rooftops, but cutting through the park shaved a small distance off her journey and gave a sense of exhilarating velocity that the rooftops failed to convey.

It was all about going fast.

Itachi slowly eased back to the ground, flying up a set of steps as quickly as her short legs would take her. She wasn't tall enough to take full steps two or three at a time without slowing down, but she could step on the very edges of the stairs and propel herself to the top, only touching down on the edge of every other stair.

She hopped up to the top of a cabbage cart, and then from there, to the rooftop of a building, before leaping down and landing gracefully and near-silently right in front of Konoha's massive front gates.

The only person there waiting, however, was her purple-haired teammate.

"Yuugao-san," Itachi said. "Good morning."

"Itachi-san."

Itachi looked at her expectantly, but she didn't volunteer anything more, so Itachi asked, "Have Kane or Katsu-sensei arrived yet?"

Yuugao rolled her eyes. "Of course not. They're not here, are they? How is it that I'm the only one with a clue today?"

Itachi bristled. "Forgive me. I hadn't realized that I wasn't allowed to ask questions."

Yuugao just sneered back, and Itachi decided that it was best to avoid an argument until their teammates showed up. So she promptly closed her mouth and stuck her hands in her pockets. Itachi wasn't late late, but she had still arrived past the appointed time, so it was strange to not be the last one there. Neither Kane nor Katsu-sensei had shown themselves to be the kind of people that were often tardy, despite her initial reservations about the former.

Itachi was only late because Mikoto had fretted over her all morning — she had been unpacked and re-packed, and she was carrying far more things that she figured she needed. Itachi had enough food to feed a small army of genin, enough changes of clothes to outfit a small army of genin, enough kunai, shuriken and wire to equip a small army of genin, and enough medical supplies to patch up a small army of genin. She felt horribly over prepared, but it was easier to accept the items than to argue with Mikoto about them, so she had storage scroll upon storage scroll full of _stuff_.

Katsu-sensei and Kane appeared then, Katsu-sensei stepping gracefully out of a shunshin, Kane stumbling a bit, his face very red.

"You're late," Yuugao said acidly.

"Apologies," Katsu-sensei rumbled. "There was an issue. It's been dealt with."

An issue with Kane? Itachi wanted to ask, but it would be rude. Kane looked embarrassed enough — he looked as if he wanted nothing more than to hide behind Katsu-sensei's very muscular leg.

Yuugao, however, looked like she wanted to say something else cutting, but she met their teacher's eyes, and something in that flat, level gaze convinced her to shut her mouth with an audible click.

Itachi was having fun already.

"Let's start. I'll set the pace. Kane will follow, and then Yuugao, and then Itachi," Katsu-sensei said. Then, he took off up to the treetops, setting a pace that was less than the full-out sprint that Itachi had used to get to the front gates, but was quick enough that they didn't have much breath for conversation.

Because they were still mostly new to being genin, Katsu-sensei took short jumps, letting them trace his footsteps through the canopy. Itachi might have been able to handle moving at something more like his usual pace, but her teammates might not have.

For what had to be half the day, Katsu-sensei leapt through the trees, and they followed. It was long enough that Itachi's attention would have wandered, but they were moving quickly enough that she wasn't able to get lost in thought — the motions of moving so quickly were distracting.

Finally, he stopped on a particularly wide tree branch, and let his students catch up. By then, Itachi was breathing hard. Although she had good endurance and was in incredible shape for her age, she was still a very short person, and still seven. Of all of them, Yuugao seemed the least tired, as Kane looked as exhausted as Itachi felt.

After giving them a few moments to get their breath back, their sensei spoke up.

"Our mission, if you recall, is to uncover the mystery of a well-known trader's murder in a small town called Futatsuhama in the southeast of Fire Country. A few days ago, one Miyamoto Eito was found dead inside his hotel room, his skull caved in, and his coffers empty. The owner of the hotel contracted Konoha, as his establishment is a well-known resort and he can't afford an unsolved murder and robbery on his premises for long. Our mission is locate the murderer, and bring him to justice. Any questions?"

Kane volunteered, "How are we supposed to catch this person? I don't know anything about how to find a murderer. Wouldn't it be better to send a specialized team, instead, like someone from the Military Police?"

Itachi interrupted, "As of last year, the Military Police Force doesn't actually have authority to take investigative missions outside of the village. They are a police force for Konoha only." Katsu-sensei nodded, to show that this was indeed true. And _boy_ , did that make Fugaku mad when he heard about it. Itachi was relatively sure that it was mostly engineered by Danzo, given the timeframe.

In this case, Itachi couldn't blame Fugaku for being upset. It was pretty blatantly an insult — the idea that Uchiha by themselves weren't trustworthy outside of the village, where ostensibly any wrongdoing they might commit would be monitored by ANBU. Never mind that ANBU had their own shit to do, and using them to watch the regular police force was literally the definition of counterproductive.

At that point, they might as well bring the Hokage along to investigate crimes, just to make sure everything was on the up-and-up.

"That...that doesn't make any sense," Kane said. "So what do they do when someone gets killed outside of a village?"

Katsu-sensei explained, "The locals investigate, and if they are unable to find out, they contact the Daimyo. All authority to police Fire Country outside of Konoha ultimately rests with him. If his agents fail, nothing else is done. That is, unless an interested party contacts Konoha to investigate, but that would require funding a mission to find the perpetrator."

"So what happens if we fail?" Kane asked.

"The Daimyo's men will investigate, but it is exceedingly unlikely for them to find something we could not."

"That's...depressing," Yuugao said.

"That's the reality of civilian life."

Yuugao chuckled, "I suppose it's good that we have short, dark, and broody over there, then."

Itachi eyed her carefully, before she said, "I know very little about the way my father investigates crimes."

"Wait, why?" Kane asked. "Shouldn't he be training you to take over for him, or something?"

"My father wishes for me to join ANBU."

"Eh? Why?" Kane said. Yuugao looked intensely curious at the answer, too.

Itachi sighed, and looked over at Kane. "For reasons that are between him and me." She had no desire to explain Fugaku's thoughts on the Military Police in front of Yuugao, of all people.

"Ahh," he said, face going red.

To relieve a bit of the pressure, Itachi said, "How do they expect us to solve such a thing when we have so little formalized training? Shouldn't someone from a place like T&I be assigned it instead?"

"I have faith that we will complete the mission," Katsu-sensei said. "The Torture and Interrogation Division would be overqualified for a C-Rank like this."

"Yeah, Itachi-san. They wouldn't have given us the mission if they didn't think we could do it," Kane encouraged her.

"It's not that. The system as a whole is inefficient. The mission assignment desk is working off incomplete knowledge. How do they know how difficult this mission will be to complete?" Itachi said, frowning. It wasn't just the poorly thought out system that bothered her — it was the fact that someone had done it on purpose. This wasn't just a bureaucratic miscalculation. She looked at Katsu-sensei. He regarded her evenly, seemingly content to let them talk amongst themselves. "The change to the Military Police's jurisdiction is nonsensical, unless it's deliberately an attack against the Uchiha."

"What, the shady shadow government in charge of Konoha is out to get you now?" Yuugao said snidely.

Itachi glared at her, and bit back a scathing reply. Well, she was more right than she knew. However, it wasn't as if Itachi could just declare Danzo a traitor and all-around organ stealing chucklefuck, as much as she wanted to.

"He never said that," Kane said calmly. He didn't raise his voice, but something in it was nevertheless sharp and cold, like a blade hidden among fine silk.

"Psh, whatever. Just don't come whining to me about how oppressed your clan is, _Uchiha_ -san."

Kane opened his mouth to argue, but Itachi cut him off. "It's fine. I'm not particularly concerned with what Yuugao-san thinks."

She looked utterly furious, but Itachi wasn't perturbed in the slightest. "What did you say?" Yuugao asked, her voice dangerously sweet.

"You heard me."

"Guys!" Kane shouted. "Stop it, okay?"

"I didn't start—" Itachi started, but Kane was forceful as he cut in.

"Look, I know. Yuugao, you've been unkind all day. We're _supposed_ to be a team! We're trying to get along with you, but you've gotta meet us halfway. And Itachi, I know she's been like this all morning, but you're better than that." He looked between them, carefully. "We're a team, for better or worse. But we're not going to be a very good team if we don't work together."

Itachi felt her cheeks burn a bit at being scolded by her teammate, but she knew it would be genuinely childish to keep arguing. She risked a look at Katsu-sensei again. He was looking at Kane with something that looked a lot like pride.

She considered it. Had he just been hoping for them to work out their differences? Or, perhaps, was it something that had to do with the fact that they had both been late to the meet-up, and had arrived together?

"I can do that," Itachi said.

Yuugao nodded too, even if she looked somewhat unhappy about it.

"Okay," Kane said. "Is there anything else you guys need to know right now?"

At their answers in the negative, he nodded, and turned to Katsu-sensei.

"We're ready now. Sorry about that," Kane said.

Katsu-sensei just nodded, and rumbled, "Let us be off, then."

* * *

The journey to Futatsuhama took three days, travelling at Katsu-sensei's speed. By the end of it, Itachi was beyond grateful for every lap she'd done since the Academy. It was a long, brutal slog. By the end of each day her legs felt like jelly and by the time they started again in the morning, the soreness made her miss the stumbling, wiggling gait of the night before. But Katsu-sensei was pitiless in his pace, and his stride never faltered once as he bounded through the thick forest.

If nothing else, Itachi was very pleased about the fact that they at least had very little energy at the end of the day to argue. Instead, they staggered around, mechanically setting up their campsite and wolfing down a quick dinner before collapsing into bed.

They barely talked. And somehow, that ended up doing more for their team relations than any inspiring speech by Kane. Yuugao's attitude thawed a bit, and Itachi found it hard to hold grudges after three days of rigorous exercise.

So, by the time they came out of the endless forest, Itachi wanted nothing more than to collapse into a nice warm bed somewhere and not move again for a few days.

Futatsuhama was a small town on the shore of Fire Country, dominated by the small hill that formed a geometric point, flanked on the side by two beaches, both of them featuring soft, pale sand and clear blue water. It was a natural resort area, and the town itself was dwarfed by the enormous resort hotel that perched on the hill, looming like a predator lying in wait.

Katsu-sensei slowed down at the edge of the town, and slowly guided them through the central market — a broad street that had a number of stalls that sold everything from touristy knicknacks to seafood to beachwear and towels. Itachi was was having trouble figuring out where to look — although the man over there sold _crab legs_ — and she could almost feel Kane's neck snapping around behind her as he tried to take in everything.

A small section of shops, however, looked to be closed up at the moment. Itachi thought this was a bit strange, since there were three in a row, and they didn't seem out of business — just closed. Itachi had noted that the deceased was a merchant, so if those three stores were his, he had to be rather influential.

"The client is the owner of the hotel," Katsu-sensei explained.

"That makes sense," Itachi said. "He needs to guarantee that this kind of thing won't happen again, if he wants people to visit his hotel."

"Why's it a C-rank mission, then?" Kane asked. "Wouldn't he want to pay more if his business was on the line?"

Itachi had no idea, and no one else seemed willing to volunteer any ideas, either.

"We will check in with him first. He has sealed the room, so it will be mostly untouched. Starting there seems to be the logical option," Katsu-sensei said.

"Are you going to teach us how to solve a murder, sensei?" Itachi asked.

"I will show you my method, yes. But I will not hold your hand. We will solve this problem together."

Itachi wasn't so sure, and Yuugao looked similarly skeptical. Kane, however, looked reassured by that.

Itachi simply had trouble believing that this was a mission that could just be solved by throwing themselves at it. As far as she knew, missions tended to be more or less straightforward, especially at lower levels. Guarding merchants or tracking down bandits, the like.

This? This she was wholly unprepared for. Itachi didn't think ninja even had missions like this unless they had specialized in this. But despite her misgivings, it wasn't like she could reasonably object. Shinobi were tools for their village, after all. She didn't really have any recourse to say no, and almost all of the options she did have came from her status among the clan.

Katsu-sensei led the group into the hotel, through a few doors into a lavishly-appointed reception area, complete with a small pond. An attractive-looking young woman with gold eyeliner and equally gold fingernail polish perked up when they walked in. In fact, gold seemed to be a common theme — there was gold filigree nearly everywhere, from the chairs to the walls to the tiny golden river stones in the koi pond.

"Welcome to the Futatsuhama Tower!" she said warmly, fiddling with her very sparkly nails.

"We are here to speak to Fujiwara Taiki," Katsu-sensei said. "Team Six, from Konohagakure, reporting for duty."

"Oh! You must be the shinobi that Fujiwara-sama hired," Her eyes sparkled as she looked around at them, Itachi in particular. "My name is Yumi. It's nice to meet you all! I'll go and get him. Make yourselves comfortable, ok?"

At their nods, she hurried around the desk and disappeared into a back room.

Itachi tried to relax, but she was too on-edge — the fear of failing this mission weighed heavily on her. As much as she wanted to expect to succeed, Katsu-sensei's lesson on the day of her genin test reminded her that she really didn't know much other than how to adequately kill someone. If anything, the smattering of lessons she'd received from Mikoto were the most useful.

Speaking of which, she considered the receptionist, Yumi. While it was possible she had committed the murder, she would suffer if it went unsolved. Plus, she hadn't disappeared yet, even knowing that shinobi were on the way. Itachi felt comfortable ruling her out, at least, even if she'd looked a bit nervous — that was very likely the presence of Katsu-sensei, who was tall and intimidating.

Yumi walked back into the room, fingers smoothing over her nails as she moved. A man was behind her, mostly average-looking, with brown hair and eyes and olive-colored skin. He was slight and below-average in height, and looked pleased to see them. A gold tooth sparkled in his sly smile, and, sitting down, Itachi could see the slight paunch of a middle-aged man who didn't exercise much.

"Shinobi-san, this is my employer, Fujiwara Taiki," she said. "Fujiwara-sama, these are the shinobi from Konoha." Having said her piece, she bowed, and excused herself from the room.

The man, Fujiwara-san, smiled ingratiatingly, and said, "We're very happy to have you."

"I am Honda Katsu, jounin of Konoha, Fujiwara-san. This is my team: Kasshoku Kane, Uzuki Yuugao, and Uchiha Itachi. We are at your disposal."

"Yes, yes. It's a pleasure to meet you all, of course. It's a terrible thing — Miyamoto Eito was a regular customer. We here at the Futatsuhama Tower are prepared to do everything in our power to help you catch his killer. To that end, I am prepared to offer you rooms for the duration of your stay, as well as access to the suite that Miyamoto-san used." He drew from his sleeve a small card with a flourish; Katsu-sensei reached one thick arm forwards to take it.

He bowed. "Thank you."

Fujiwara continued, "And if there's anything you need, anything at all...don't hesitate." He forced a smile, and bowed to them this time. "I am in your debt, all of you."

Katsu-sensei nodded gravely. "We'll get started, then. Come." The last word was addressed to Itachi, Kane, and Yuugao, and they dutifully traipsed after him. Itachi sort of wanted to talk to Fujiwara-san a bit more, because she was having trouble getting a read on him, but she complied without comment.

He led them straight up to the room of Miyamoto Eito. That was one of the strange things about Katsu-sensei. He didn't seem to acknowledge breaks, or breathers, or any kind of smooth transition from task to task. It seemed to fit him, right in with his intimidating physical presence, lack of self-consciousness, and somewhat stilted manner of speaking.

So after tree-hopping through Fire Country for three days straight, Katsu-sensei didn't head to their rooms to let his team decompress before heading to the crime scene — he took them right there, with his usual no-nonsense attitude.

As far as Itachi could tell, it was simply because that's how his mind worked — he didn't need any decompressing, so he either assumed they were like him, or he was training them to think the same way. It was efficient, so it would be a useful way to go about things, particularly in the life that Katsu-sensei was training them for — shinobi could not afford to be taken off guard, and this forced march through their mission would help them be prepared for the unexpected, if nothing else.

"Touch nothing," Katsu-sensei instructed as he slid aside the door, opening up the room.

Itachi, Yuugao, and Kane followed him in. The room was on one of the top floors, more of a luxury apartment than a hotel room. There was an enormous bed — not simply a futon, but an actual feather bed — a small reception and kitchen area, a separate alcove with a large desk that served as an office, an enormous bathroom with pearlescent tile so shiny that it was almost gaudy, and a small balcony. The entire room was done up with gold accents — it was a theme through the entire hotel.

But the thing that dominated their focus was the dead man, his head mostly deformed as he lay in a pool of dried blood, head hanging over the side of the bed. Miyamoto Eito was a tall man with a round belly and a handsome-looking face. What little they could see of his hair was white and his eyes were closed, his hands folded over a fine-looking business suit — a modern style among wealthy civilians.

The second thing that hit Itachi was the smell — it was thick, like rot, and somehow the days-old dead body was exactly as disgusting as she expected it to be. She couldn't help but hide her nose in her arm, to try and block out the overpowering scent of rot.

Kane gagged immediately, and Yuugao sneered and brought up a bit of her shirt to cover her mouth.

"Ummm...sensei?" Yuugao asked.

"Yes?"

"What are we supposed to be doing?"

"Investigating."

Yuugao sighed a very put-upon sigh, and muttered to herself, "Of course I get the team full of lunatics."

Kane cleared his throat, apparently over his gagging fit. "I think what she's trying to ask is what you're doing, and whether we can help or not?" He turned to Yuugao, who nodded.

Katsu-sensei frowned, and said, "I'm looking for oddities in the room itself. Things out of place, or unusual. Anything that a killer might have left behind, or something that's not where it should be."

"Didn't the killer rob him?" Itachi asked.

"Yes."

"So, if we know that, someone must have been in here first," Itachi said. "So we should figure out what they touched. We should probably also, you know, question some witnesses or something."

"I'll help," Kane offered.

Itachi looked at Katsu-sensei. He nodded.

"Come on, then," Itachi said.

Yuugao looked forlornly at them for a half-second, but Katsu-sensei beckoned her over and started to explain something about the corpse. Itachi and Kane beat a hasty retreat.

Once out in the hall, Kane asked, "What's the plan?"

"We're going to pay another visit to Fujiwara-san. He's the one that called in the mission, we'll start with him."

Kane grinned. "I knew it."

"What?" Itachi asked.

"You _do_ know what you're doing," he said triumphantly. "You do that sometimes, you know? Sell yourself short, I mean."

Itachi just stared at him, confused.

Kane's grin faltered a bit, but he pressed on. "Just the way you can think through stuff. I don't think I'd ever have thought about it like that, and as soon as sensei asks, you've got this really smart answer just like that." He snapped his fingers. "But you said before you don't have any idea how to investigate. It's like if you think you're not good at something unless you're an expert."

Itachi didn't really know what to say to that. "Ummm...thanks?"

Kane nodded. "I just think that you put a lot of pressure on yourself. Yuugao might not want to admit it, but the only reason you haven't left us both in the dust is because we're older. As is, you're doing a pretty good job already."

"I — I know. I just — there's a lot riding on me. So much I have to do," Itachi said, feeling a pressure behind her eyes.

"But…" Kane looked a bit lost. "You're seven. You're still a kid, and a genin. You've got all this time for everything, you know? All that pressure can't be healthy, is what I'm trying to say."

Itachi wanted shake Kane and tell him that no, there really was no time because of her body and the Massacre and the clan and Sasuke and Danzo and everything, but she couldn't.

So she just said, "Kane, I'm not sure you'd understand."

"Is that so?" he said, cooly. "Is it because I'm not in a clan? That my mom isn't a shinobi? Or is it just above people like me?"

Itachi stopped in the stairwell of the hotel, and stared at Kane. "No."

Kane was glaring now, his face red. He opened his mouth, but Itachi cut him off.

"It's not any of those things, Kane. It's — complicated. My clan — it's not just them. I am their heir, their celebrated prodigy — but it's more than that. You remember the Kyuubi's attack on the village, right?" Kane nodded. "There is a legend in the history of Konoha, of Uchiha Madara's ability to use the sharingan to unleash the Kyuubi on the First Hokage. It's — I don't know if that story is true." Itachi sighed. "But since the attack, the Uchiha have faced...opposition."

"You don't mean — someone is accusing the Uchiha clan of setting the Kyuubi on the village?" Kane asked, horrified.

"Never so openly, and directly. I'm not even sure that we've even been accused. All it is is whispers, or rumors. But even then, those are enough. The Uchiha clan relocated, more and more sanctions, a decline in Uchiha outside of the police force, and now this — the clan essentially confined to the village.

"The day of our genin test, my father told me that the clan needed me in the ANBU. That the police force was a trap, to confine the clan to a thankless task in service to the Hokage. He told me I was destined for more, to be the clan's pipeline to the village. The one to unite us together. So, now, it is not just my clan, or my family. It is the whole village who looks at Uchiha Itachi and expects miracles," Itachi finished, throat feeling dry from either talking so much or from revealing so much, she couldn't tell which.

She looked at Kane warily, and said, "But I don't want to burden you. Please, I'm fine. Don't worry—"

"How?" Kane asked. "How can you say that?"

"What?" Itachi asked a little dumbly.

"I'm your teammate, idiot. _Of course_ I want to hear about your problems. Yuugao might not, but fuck her. I don't know how to help you, but you don't have to tell me it's nothing and struggle on alone. Even if there's nothing I can do — Itachi — you're my friend. My teammate. You're probably the best friend I've ever had."

Itachi immediately felt horribly guilty, because she didn't consider Kane her best friend. To be honest, she didn't really have a best friend — she had Shisui, who was in a category all his own. But she didn't have a long time to think about it, because she was quickly crushed in a hug, against Kane's taller frame. Itachi wasn't sure what to do, because Kane was her teammate and was a very nice boy, but the only person who had ever hugged Itachi in her entire life was her mother. So she sort of just lamely patted him on the back in reply, stiffly waiting it out until it was over.

When he pulled back, Kane's face was very red. "Eh, sorry about that. I just — you looked like you needed it."

"No," Itachi said, feeling her cheeks heat up too. "It's fine. I wasn't expecting — sorry," she apologized.

"Okay," Kane said. "Let's — good talk. Let's do it again sometime. But we should go interview Fujiwara-san."

"Alright." Itachi wouldn't have admitted it, but she had totally forgotten about their mission.

For the rest of their trip, down the rest of the stairs and back into the reception area, nothing else was said. Yumi brightened immediately when she saw them, and Itachi mustered up a little-kid smile.

"Aren't you a little cutie," she said. "What's your name?"

"My name's Itachi," Itachi replied, affecting a childish mien. "It's nice to meet you, Yumi-san." Next to her, Kane looked a bit gobsmacked.

"What a polite young man," Yumi simpered. "How can I help you boys today?"

Itachi surreptitiously nudged Kane, and he piped up, "We would like to speak to Fujiwara-san."

"Oh! Okay!" she said. "What do you want to know?"

Itachi frowned. It seemed strange to her that this woman would be so obvious, but maybe she expected them to be what they appeared — a seven-year-old and a ten-year-old, easily hoodwinked.

"Our sensei wanted us to ask him something!" Itachi said.

"Alright. I'll go get him now, okay?" Yumi got up and left the room.

Kane turned to Itachi. "What was that about?"

Itachi rolled her eyes. "Civilians don't expect seven-year-olds to be ninja. Stupid of them, but it pays to be underestimated."

"No, the — you actually sounded like a kid there."

"What?" Itachi asked.

Kane raised his hands. "I mean, of course you're a kid, but most of the time you've got that look about you — all tiny frowns and deep, soulful eyes. I don't know what to say about it other than you definitely don't look seven, more like a miniature adult."

"Ah," Itachi said. But she didn't have time to say anything more, because Yumi came back through the door.

"I'll lead you to his office," Yumi said.

They followed. Fujiwara's office was larger than Itachi figured was warranted, and his desk was an impressive piece of dark red wood, with gold accents. Itachi could not recall seeing the like — Fugaku's desk in his office at the police station was half the size, and made of an unremarkable wood. Sturdy and reliable. This...this was almost art. The theme continued in the rest of the office, all dark wood and gold. It was undoubtedly impressive, and it spoke of a wealth and power that Itachi wasn't sure that Fujiwara had. Especially if he had bought only a C-rank mission.

"How can I help you, young sirs?" he asked.

"We had a few questions about the murder," Itachi said, all business.

"Oh?"

Itachi whipped out a small scroll that Mikoto had given her for taking notes, and handed it to Kane. He looked confused, until she frowned, and gestured at him to use it. He looked dumbly at it for a bit, before catching on and nodding frantically.

Fujiwara chuckled, indulgent.

"First question," Itachi said, the picture of seriousness. "Who discovered the body of the late Miyamoto-san?" She sort of wished that she had a hat and a pipe to properly complete the image, but the reference would be lost on everyone anyway.

Fujiwara said, "That would be Miyamoto-san's associate, one Komatsu-san. I believe he is also staying in the hotel at the moment, taking care of Miyamoto-san's business."

"And where can we find this Komatsu-san?"

"Aa, let Yumi give you the room number."

"Acceptable," Itachi allowed. "What is your relationship to the deceased?"

Fujiwara frowned. "He is one of my clients. A very good one, so I make sure to greet him whenever I can. I wouldn't call us friends, but we have maintained a friendly relationship since he started staying here. I make sure to personally attend his needs as much as I can, and he's made an effort to give me the business."

"How long have you known the late Miyamoto-san?" Itachi asked.

"A few years — almost a decade, I think."

"Can you think of any motive someone might have to kill him?"

"Uhhh…" Fujiwara-san looked a bit pale at that. "He was robbed, wasn't he? I thought that was the reason he was killed. He was very rich, you see. He owned a fleet of fishing vessels that supplied seafood to a large portion of Fire and Water Countries. You should ask someone who had a reason to steal from him, or a rival — or a partner."

"I see," Itachi said. "And what is your motivation for funding this mission to find his killer?"

"Can you imagine, shinobi-san, what would happen to my hotel if a prominent man such as Miyamoto Eito was killed, and the killer was not brought to justice? I would be _ruined_. Utterly. This hotel would not be able to sustain itself. I would also — well, I would like to see justice served, you see. Now, if you don't have any more questions, I am a very busy man, and I must get back to work. Please excuse me."

Itachi felt like that was a bit convenient. The C-rank of the mission, the way he'd hustled them up to the room with the dead man, his strangely cagey answers...Itachi didn't think that added up. But she wouldn't get much further with direct questioning.

Still, there was something to be said for thoroughness. "One more, Fujiwara-san. Where were you at the time of the murder?"

His face went a bit red, and his smile was very forced. "I was with — er, Yumi-chan. Ask her. She'll tell you that I was definitely with her."

"Thank you, Fujiwara-san," Itachi said. "We appreciate you answering our questions."

And with that, she turned and left, Kane trailing along after her.

"So, what now?" he asked.

"Now, we investigate two more people — the partner that Fujiwara-san mentioned, and I have a question to ask Yumi-san."

"Eh?"

Itachi asked, "Did Fujiwara-san seem suspicious to you?"

"How so?"

"He is our client. He paid for a C-rank, and hustled us up to the room as quickly as possible. And then, he was defensive when questioned. Are these the actions of a man who has nothing to hide?"

Kane shrugged. "It's not much, but I trust you. If you think think something's up, I'd believe it."

Itachi sighed. It was nice to have Kane's faith, but she would rather have his opinion. Itachi was clever and intelligent, but she wasn't all-knowing. Kane was also clever, and he also had an unfortunate tendency to sell himself short on a number of things. Itachi had her suspicions on why that was — she was pretty sure that something was very rotten in Kane's home life.

She said, "I'm not sure he's telling the whole truth. He seemed very cagey — this is the second time he avoided talking to us. And he was very quick to blame Miyamoto-san's business partner."

"Okay," Kane said. "What's the point of questioning Yumi?"

"I don't think we'll get anything useful out of Fujiwara-san," Itachi replied.

"Sooo — I'm not following."

"Yumi-san will tell us more honestly about the staff than Fujiwara-san. Which is why you're going to question her."

Kane stopped walking. "Wait, why?"

"Because she thinks I'm a seven-year-old child. That might be useful in the future."

He looked like he was going to panic. "But I don't know what to ask her?"

Itachi sighed. "I wanted to ask him about his employees, but if he paid someone off to do it, he wouldn't be upfront about it. Ask Yumi-san about anyone new she's seen recently working around the hotel."

"Is that it?"

"I think so. Fujiwara-san doesn't seem the type to kill someone himself — he would be likely to hire someone to do his dirty work for him."

Kane looked thoughtful for a second, and then he said, "I think I can do that."

"Good," Itachi smiled. "Come on, then."

Kane followed Itachi out the door, and into the reception area. Yumi was there, sitting quietly and humming to herself.

Kane took the lead as they entered, and Itachi trailed behind him.

"Yumi-san," Kane said. "My sensei said he had a question I should ask you."

"Oh?" she asked, grin crinkling around her eyes. "What's that?"

"Uhh...is there anyone around here recently...like, new, on staff, you know, in the last few days." Itachi couldn't help the smirk curling her lips. Kane had a natural talent for acting.

"Oh, well...I don't think so. Our staff has remained the same for a few months. Sorry."

Kane looked slightly panicked at Itachi, and she fought down the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she folded her arms at him. Kane's widened, and he silently implored Itachi to direct him. Itachi didn't react.

"Ahhhh...can I help you with anything else, young sirs?" Yumi asked.

Itachi sighed, and said, "What about people who have been meeting with Fujiwara-san? New, unusual people you haven't seen before?"

Yumi looked at Itachi warily frowning. "There was one, you see. I thought it was strange because there was a man that looked homeless, and was meeting with Fujiwara-san."

Kane seized on that. "What did this guy look like?"

"He was enormous. Probably larger than your sensei. And he was covered in scars — he had probably been travelling the road for a very long time, because he didn't smell so good." She wrinkled her nose cutely.

"And, what were you doing at the time of the murder?" Yumi flashed through panic at Itachi's question, before she controlled her expression and carefully laced her long fingers together, as if she was attempting not to fidget.

"I was with Fujiwara-sama, doing — work! Yes! Work!"

"Thank you for your time," Itachi said. Yumi looked even more nervous as they walked away.

Itachi and Kane returned to the stairs.

"If I sell myself short, so do you." Itachi told him, as soon as they were climbing.

"Eh?"

"You're perfectly capable of doing this stuff without me, as long as you trust yourself," Itachi said.

"I — thank you, but I'm not really all that clever," Kane demurred.

"But you are," Itachi said. "You have a way with people that neither Yuugao nor I can claim."

"I know I'm not that helpful of a teammate, Itachi. You don't have to say stuff just to be nice."

Itachi was a bit surprised at how resistant to the idea of a compliment Kane was, but considering what she knew — or at least suspected — about him, it wasn't an enormous surprise.

"Fine," she said. "We're going upstairs, we might as well go and report into Katsu-sensei."

They were silent all the way up the stairs.


	9. Murder and Mystery in Futatsuhama, pt II

Itachi and Kane found Yuugao leaning against the wall of Miyamoto's room. The sun was setting outside, and she looked strange, illuminated by the golden light. It was like seeing the back of your own head — the odd perspective made it seem like this was a whole new side of Yuugao.

"Hey," she said. "How's it going?"

Kane shrugged, and Itachi explained, "We've done some asking around, and we have a lead."

"So what's up your ass?" she asked Kane. Well, maybe not a new side.

Kane didn't seem interested in responding, so Itachi did. "We've had something of a difference of opinion."

"Ahh." Yuugao nodded sagely. "A lover's spat."

Kane's face immediately went red. "It's not like that! I just think Itachi is much cleverer than me, but he refuses to accept compliments!"

Itachi, staring at Kane, found herself smiling, despite being misgendered. "It's nice to see you sticking up for yourself to Yuugao."

The girl in question laughed. "You guys are so gay."

Itachi's face went red at this, but it had nothing on Kane, who spluttered indignantly and stomped his foot. Of course, this was girlish-looking enough that it only caused Yuugao to laugh harder.

"What's so funny?" Katsu-sensei asked from the doorway.

Yuugao stopped laughing immediately, and Itachi tried to look like she wasn't involved in any of it.

But it was Kane who spoke up. "Nothing, sensei. Just some friendly teasing between teammates, right?" He looked around.

Yuugao and Itachi both nodded, the former significantly more frantic than the latter.

"If you say so," their sensei rumbled. "Now come in, and we can discuss our findings."

They trooped through the door. Itachi was surprised to find that it didn't smell nearly as strongly of death anymore, but that was very likely because Katsu-sensei had removed the body and cleaned up the blood. So they walked in and settled in the small reception area. Katsu-sensei remained standing, because he was weird like that.

Itachi and Kane went to sit down, but Katsu-sensei said, "Don't sit."

"What?" Itachi said. "Wait, why?" Her teammates looked similarly confused.

"For the past few days, you all have had very little time to stop and rest. This was purposeful. I set this pace with the intention of training your endurance beyond a typical situation. Not only does it limit the time in which the murderer has to cover his tracks, this isn't something you can learn by repetition in a village. This is the fatigue of a mission — the way in which a shinobi is forced to be on high alert, at all times and without a moment to catch his or her breath. This is how you force your muscles to push past the normal limits of endurance, in case you are attacked on the road, or if your opponents receive reinforcements unexpectedly.

"It's how we can expect a team of shinobi to overcome any unexpected danger to crop up during a mission. I am simply training you as best I can — the best way to do this is to expose you as much as possible as early as possible," Katsu-sensei explained.

Itachi thought about that — it seemed a very sensible explanation, and the mental fatigue was indeed very real. This was the fourth day of what was essentially non-stop activity, and Itachi was ready to collapse on her feet. But something about this all was bothering her.

"Isn't this sort of offset by what we're doing to our bodies, though?" she asked. "I was under the impression that our muscles needed time to regenerate, and that's how we became stronger."

Kane looked like Itachi had just claimed that the moon was secretly the prison of a rabbit goddess who was also the source of all chakra, while Yuugao actually looked interested for once.

"For the most part, you're not wrong. But chakra makes up for the difference. In a way, we're exercising your body's ability to use chakra to push past regular limits without exhausting your chakra as well as your body."

Now that he mentioned it, Itachi did notice that she was missing some chakra. "So my body just automatically fills in the gaps…?" she asked. "That could be really dangerous."

Katsu-sensei nodded. "It helps, because it can be used to avoid the period where your muscles rebuild themselves, using chakra. It's not as efficient as recovering over time, and a rather inefficient use of chakra, which is why we don't generally train constantly. However, doing this kind of strenuous, mission activity will get you all used to using your chakra like this, and able to anticipate it when necessary.

"But that's not the whole point — you are being pushed to think and function and reason at a point where your body is not just exhausted, but your mind is too. When you've failed the mission and you're deep behind enemy lines during in the middle of war, this kind of training may save your life. One of the truths of the life we lead is that things will rarely go according to plan, and there is rarely a convenient time to stop and rest."

Itachi nodded dumbly. It was...it made a lot of sense. It also explained Katsu-sensei's strange ignorance of breaks. He was not just being robotic and weird; he was deliberately pushing them beyond the normal limits of their endurance in an effort to, if not raise that endurance, get them used to pushing past those limits. Itachi found her respect for her sensei rising — not that she didn't respect him before, but this was clever in a way she hadn't thought him capable of.

It also meant that it was possible to not just augment one's muscles with chakra, but outright modify them. It wasn't simply using chakra to move faster or hit harder, it was possible to actually train yourself to the point where a chakra-less person might be gravely injured, but a shinobi would be stronger for it.

Which explained a ton of things about Rock Lee, actually. If he didn't need his chakra for ninjutsu or genjutsu, maybe he really did train all day long. And, actually, now that she thought about it, it was probably a precursor to the Eight Gates, too, since those were about removing the body's natural limits using chakra. It fit with Itachi's understanding that the Eight Gates might be the manual activation of what Katsu-sensei described — artificially inducing the body to move faster and hit harder.

Itachi couldn't help but wonder if the muscles of her body could be so easily modified by chakra, then the hormones might be similarly trivial. One of the things she definitely had considered was the idea of a jutsu that wouldn't necessarily change her sex completely, but rather ensure that she had a female puberty instead of a male one. It wouldn't solve her biggest problem, but it would solve everything else, and it would give her significantly more breathing room to fix the vagina situation, if nothing else.

Because, while the body dysphoria of being a pre-pubescent male wasn't crushingly depressing, the onset of puberty was more or less guaranteed to be. So while now it was something she could afford to ignore, it wasn't going to last forever.

But now wasn't the time to dwell on such things.

"Now, how did your questioning of Fujiwara-san go?"

Itachi frowned and looked at Kane, urging him to talk instead of her, mostly because he had the list. He looked rather reluctant, but Itachi was adamant.

Kane huffed and said, "We talked to him and the secretary, Yumi. Fujiwara-san was mostly helpful, and pointed us towards a business associate of Miyamoto-san, named Komatsu. He resides in the adjacent suite, so we wanted to question him about what he found. Yumi-san also informed us that Fujiwara-san met with a strange and intimidating-looking man in the last few days, and Itachi thought that that might be the killer."

"You are not as sure?" Katsu-sensei asked.

Kane shrugged. "Itachi was suspicious of Fujiwara-san and this mysterious man, and I thought we should question Komatsu-san before reaching any conclusions."

Katsu-sensei nodded, and turned to Itachi. "Do you have anything to add?"

"No," Itachi said. She really didn't — and Kane had a point, even if she was highly suspicious of Fujiwara's involvement in this whole thing. She wouldn't put it past Yumi to lie to them for her boss, and the two of them were definitely covering up something.

"Then, why don't you tell the rest of the team what we did, Yuugao-kun?" Katsu-sensei asked.

Yuugao folded her arms. "We found that he was robbed, mostly because he didn't have any money and his desk was pretty messed up. They were thorough, and everything the guy had is gone. Then Katsu-sensei looked at the wound, and apparently whoever killed him was very strong, and quite tall." She seemed slightly put out that they'd discovered so little, but Itachi thought it they were doing fine, all things considered.

"Thank you," Katsu-sensei said. "Now, here is your first lesson in the art of solving a problem is this — what is the problem?"

Itachi thought about it for a second. Katsu-sensei often did things like this — he asked what seemed like rhetorical or blindingly obvious questions without irony.

She looked over at Kane or Yuugao, and, true to form, Kane looked like he was going to say something. So Itachi stayed quiet.

"The problem is that we need to complete the mission — find the person who killed Miyamoto Eito, and bring them to justice," Kane contributed.

Katsu-sensei nodded. "So we've established the problem. Now, what do we know? We know that Miyamoto-san was killed right here in his hotel room — who are our suspects?"

Itachi volunteered, "The mysterious tall, muscular man that Yumi-san told us about."

Katsu nodded at her, and looked around to the others.

"Fujiwara-san, and Komatsu-san, too," Kane added. "Even if they didn't actually do the deed, either one of them could have hired this man."

"Good," Katsu-sensei said. "Which leads to our next question? Who had the motive?"

Yuugao cleared her throat and said, "It depends on whether Komatsu-san benefits from his partner's death — maybe Miyamoto-san was going to cut his partner out of the business. Or, Fujiwara-san could profit from this. It's less likely, but maybe his death is going to be somehow helpful for the hotel in the long run."

Katsu-sensei nodded. "Or…?" he questioned.

"Or maybe the killer is unrelated. Maybe he's a wanderer and he was looking for someone rich to rob," Kane suggested.

"That's very possible. But if something like that was the case, wouldn't there be signs of a struggle?" Itachi asked, looking at Katsu-sensei.

But to her surprise, it was Yuugao who spoke up. "There weren't any. That means...that could mean a lot of things. Maybe the large man knew Miyamoto, maybe either Komatsu or Fujiwara tricked him into letting this man get the drop on him. Or, the large man is a ninja and he killed Miyamoto while he was unaware. We simply don't know enough to tell — we need to talk with Komatsu-san, and we need to find this man that Yumi-san mentioned."

Katsu-sensei nodded. "That sounds like a very good plan. We should split up — some of us to talk to Komatsu, and some of us to acquire from Fujiwara where this mysterious man went." He paused for a moment, apparently in thought. "Kane. Itachi. Go and interview Komatsu-san. We will reconvene when you're done."

Itachi nodded, and, beside her, Kane said, "Got it."

* * *

Komatsu was a bleary-eyed, rotund man that reminded Itachi of Hitsuji. It wasn't a particularly flattering comparison. His hair was patchy and gray, and his skin was much paler than most of the people they'd met so far in Futatsuhama. There was something different about his gaze, though — a shrewdness that Hitsuji didn't have, despite being a civilian when her old Academy teacher was a shinobi.

"Eh?" he said as soon as he opened the door. "Who're you?"

Kane smiled, and said, "My name is Kasshoku Kane, and this is Uchiha Itachi. We're shinobi from Konoha, investigating the murder of Miyamoto Eito."

Komatsu smiled warmly. "Well, hello. I'm very excited to meet a member of the illustrious Uchiha clan. It's a pleasure. Please come in."

Kane looked at Itachi, and then led the way inside.

"We'd just like to ask you a few questions," he said. Komatsu's room was identical in layout to Miyamoto's, down to the gold accents. There were a few marks of personalization, and he was much less organized than Miyamoto, but that was the extent of the differences between the rooms.

"Ahh. Anything I can do to help," Komatsu promised.

Kane smiled. "Fujiwara-san told us that you were the one to discover the body."

Komatsu narrowed his eyes slightly, but his genial tone and smile remained. "I had just finished up the weekly accounting — we went over it at the end of the week, together, and then we went out and paid the workers — and I was bringing it to him when I found him on the bed. He was...it was horrible. All that blood, the way it soaked into everything — I'm not good around blood, Shinobi-san."

"Thank you for telling me," Kane said, voice full of sympathy. "How did you know Miyamoto Eito?"

"We've been business partners for twelve years." Itachi, who was the one taking notes this time, scribbled this down.

"And how would you describe your relationship? Were you friends?"

"We were once rivals in the business of owning fishing boats, but we eventually decided that cooperation was more profitable than competition. Since then, we've been friends and partners."

Itachi looked meaningfully at Kane. "Equal partners, Komatsu-san?" she asked.

He started a bit, and then looked over at her. "I-er, well, no, Uchiha-san. He owned more than me," he said, a coolly.

"Ahh, thank you," Itachi said, and nodded at Kane.

"Next — did you know of anyone with a grudge against him?"

"I don't, I'm sorry," Komatsu said. "He was a very nice man — too nice, at times, if you ask me. He often wasn't firm enough with the employees. Sometimes these fishermen, they need a firm hand to make sure they don't skim some off the top, and Eito sometimes would let them off."

Kane and Itachi exchanged significant looks.

"No one at all?" Kane asked.

"No!" Komatsu said, looking paler. His warm affability had faded now, and he looked very little like Hitsuji. "No one, I swear."

Kane looked triumphant, but Itachi felt like she was missing something.

"I think that's all of our questions," Kane said. "Thank you very much for your time, Komatsu-san."

"Anytime, Shinobi-san."

Itachi followed Kane out the door.

When they were out in the hallway, Kane turned to Itachi. Before he could open his mouth, however, they were interrupted.

"Kane. Itachi," Katsu-sensei said from down the hall. Yuugao stood next to him, looking careful and alert. "What did you find?"

Kane looked between them, and said, "Komatsu mostly confirmed what we already know."

Katsu-sensei nodded, and then said, "I have discerned that Miyamoto's killer was a tall, muscular man, and most likely a shinobi. We're after the man the receptionist mentioned. She said his name in her register was 'Tetsu.'"

Itachi was taken aback. That was rather fast, honestly. "You've already talked to her, then?"

"Yes. Any other questions?" Katsu-sensei asked.

Itachi didn't. While she felt like it was probably rather obvious that this Tetsu killed Miyamoto, she was genuinely curious about who was pulling his strings, and why. Miyamoto Eito was a man who had a lot of power, and a lot of people and ships under his command, and someone somewhere would profit from his death. And far too many people they had talked to today were hiding something.

"No? Let us be off, then."

* * *

Itachi was honestly expecting Tetsu to be a lot more difficult to find. They stopped at one of the stalls on the way out of town, and a pudgy red-haired woman told them that she'd seen him heading up the coast, towards Wave.

Unsurprisingly, a massive, scarred man was memorable. Not that it was much a surprise that people remembered him, but for a man who had just murdered someone, he was acting with a remarkable lack of circumspection.

Itachi wondered whether that was a mark of his lack of intellect, or whether it was simply another situation where things that were obvious to her weren't as obvious to other people. At the risk of sounding unbelievably condescending, Itachi was better at most things than most people. So lots of times, she expected other people to know things that she thought were obvious, but were considerably less obvious to people that weren't Itachi.

Either way, Tetsu was not covering his tracks, and it was Konoha's Team Six that would profit from his carelessness.

Itachi followed her sensei down the shabby hallway, in a small inn a short ways up the road from Futatsuhama. Kane and Yuugao trailed after her, looking as tired as she felt. By now, night had fallen and they had literally been on their feet all day. Itachi privately felt as if a rest wouldn't be amiss before confronting a potential murderer, but it wasn't like even a large civilian man posed much of a threat to any of them, tired or no.

Katsu-sensei knocked on the door. His fist seemed simultaneously too loud and too large for the flimsy wooden door, and Itachi swore she could hear the thin wood give slightly.

There was a tense moment where all three genin stood frozen, listening for movement on the other side of the door. Itachi registered a footstep inside the room, but she had no time to process it—

The entire wall exploded outward. An enormous man, even larger than Katsu-sensei, was flying out, swinging an equally enormous sword—

And then Katsu-sensei was there, his massive club parrying the sword as Itachi jumped backwards, hands flying into Ox-Monkey-Snake. The genjutsu flared, and Itachi could see, in a strange double-vision, the creeping blackness that started to snarl across Tetsu's vision.

A kunai flew from Yuugao, to her left, but Tetsu was already twisting away as he attempted to redirect the momentum from Katsu-sensei's parry. Unable to move his club in time for another blow, Katsu-sensei tripped him.

Tetsu stumbled forward, spinning around as he raised his sword for another blow.

Itachi had barely registered — Kane — and then she saw—

—and then she was in the air, seeing the motion of the swing perfectly, moving her feet in seamless synchronization to nudge it just enough to slide the sword just past Kane's frozen form.

The movement was smooth, graceful, and utterly unconscious.

Tetsu landed, the sword guttering deep into the wooden floorboards—

—Katsu-sensei moved, and then his tetsubo pulped Tetsu's head—

Itachi instinctively moved backwards in time to avoid a bit of blood spatter on her boot.

Still in a daze, she looked up at her teammates. Kane seemed like he was in shock — eyes wide and unseeing, hands trembling — while Yuugao looked right back at her, kunai clutched desperately in a white-knuckled grip.

As soon as Yuugao met Itachi's eyes, however, the purple-haired girl snarled. "This is such bullshit!" she shrieked, turning and burying her kunai in the wall of the hotel. When she turned back around, her face was more angry than Itachi had ever seen it. "Of course the loser gets in trouble and you have to fucking save him, and of fucking course you guys are gay enough that now I'll never be anything but fucking second fucking best to Uchiha Itachi!"

"Yuugao—"

But Katsu-sensei cut Itachi off. "Itachi, take care of the body and Kane." He held out a scroll, and briefly met Itachi's eyes. "Congratulations."

"On what?" Itachi asked as Katsu-sensei grabbed Yuugao and walked away. Normally Katsu-sensei moved with the vaguely predatory gait that most jounin acquired — smooth and graceful and ready to snap into violence at any moment.

Now, Itachi could see the violence lurking behind each step — the myriad of kicks, punches, chokeslams, and tetsubo strikes that were possible in each and every footstep.

It was mesmerising.

"Itachi?" Itachi snapped from her reverie.

Kane was standing there, shaking, looking pale and frightened and so very very young.

"Kane," she said. "I — are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he muttered, "I'm just — useless."

Itachi was reaching forward to support him before she even realized he looked unsteady. Some instinct had her cradling his head to her shoulder, letting the tears soak into her shirt. Itachi wasn't really sure what to say here, because, well, he hadn't done anything in the brief fight. Even Yuugao had thrown a kunai, but Kane had just frozen up. But mentioning that wouldn't help, either.

So she didn't say anything while Kane cried himself out and muttered nonsense into her shoulder.

Instead, she concentrated on her eyes, on this strange, anticipatory perception that seemed to have superimposed itself over her vision. Was it — it had to be. Itachi frowned, and the world faded back into her usual perspective.

The sharingan. She'd done it.

Eventually, when Kane's sobs subsided, Itachi gently detached him from her shoulder, and steadied him with both hands.

"Kane. You're a shinobi of Konoha," she said. "You're going to pull yourself together, and the next time something like this happens, you're not going to freeze up, got it?"

Kane didn't look convinced, but he nodded anyway.

"I'm going to seal his body now, if that's ok?" Another nod. Itachi turned away, to the corpse of the man. His head was nothing more than a mess of blood, flesh, and bone, but the rest of his body was mostly untouched. Itachi knelt down near his legs, away from the puddle of blood, and spread the scroll open.

She could feel Kane's eyes on her, but she ignored it concentrate long enough to make the sign to transfer the body into the scroll. With a puff of smoke, the corpse of Tetsu vanished, and the scroll had a new kanji in the middle of it. Itachi rolled it up, and got to her feet.

Kane looked slightly more collected, but he still looked a bit green as they regarded the rather large pool of blood that had accumulated in the hallway where Tetsu's body had fallen.

"I don't suppose you know any Water Release techniques, do you?" Itachi ventured.

Kane looked at her like she'd grown a second head, and then he looked at all the blood. And then he threw up all over his shoes. Itachi moved as quickly as she could, but she couldn't quite save him from his own vomit.

"Hey," Itachi insisted. "It's alright, ok? It's fine. The floor's just a bit dirtier, and you have a change of clothes, right?"

Kane nodded, a bit dumbly, and Itachi said, "I'll take care of this. Can you get yourself clean?"

He nodded again.

"Go, then." Kane moved into the washroom, and Itachi turned to the now-larger mess.

She let her voice drop to an approximation of Katsu-sensei's rumbling basso. "Good job not freaking out, saving Kane's life, and unlocking the sharingan. As a reward, you get to clean the crap off the floor."

"I don't sound like that," Katsu-sensei said from behind Itachi. She jumped nearly a foot in the air.

"Don't do that, sensei!" she half-shrieked.

"Yuugao will be along shortly," Katsu-sensei said, ignoring her outburst. Apparently he wasn't even offended. "Where's Kane?"

"He's, er, cleaning up — he threw up on himself." Itachi gestured to the slowly-congealing puddle of blood and vomit.

"I'll be right there!" Kane piped up from inside the room.

Katsu-sensei nodded. "Did you search his body for clues?"

"Clues?" Itachi asked.

"To confirm he was the killer."

"Oh." Itachi's face went red in embarrassment. "I was distracted — Kane had a bit of a rough time of it."

Katsu-sensei nodded again, as Kane stepped out into the hall, wearing a clean pair of dark pants and mesh shirt underneath his customary red jacket.

"Kane. You are alright?" Katsu-sensei asked, showing more emotion than usual.

Kane seemed slightly nervous about the question, glancing over at Itachi. "I'm fine, sensei."

Itachi handed Katsu-sensei the scroll, and he unrolled it carefully. He glanced at Kane, who was watching the scroll, hands twisting in front of him. Kane looked pale, but he visibly steeled himself and nodded.

Katsu-sensei released the body, and Kane seemed to wilt, but he didn't say anything.

Yuugao had joined them at some point, because she was suddenly at Itachi's other side, watching as Katsu-sensei made the puddle of blood even bigger, rifling through the dead man's pockets.

"Eww," Yuugao said. "Aren't you going to clean that up, sensei?"

Katsu-sensei blinked, as if he'd only just noticed the mess. "We will already have to compensate the hotel for damages." He gestured at the broken wall. "What is a bloody floor, as well?"

Yuugao nodded. Itachi was privately relieved that she didn't seem in a confrontational mood.

Katsu-sensei cleared his throat from the floor, his voice slightly muffled from being bent over, hands in Tetsu's clothes. "Yuugao. Itachi. You both need to have a talk. Use 'I feel' statements only. Proper communication is fundamental to a team."

"Fine," Yuugao said. "Itachi, I hate your stupid clan and its stupid doujutsu."

"Okay," Itachi said.

"Yuugao. 'I feel' sentences only."

"Fine. Itachi, I feel hatred for your stupid clan and its stupid bullshit doujutsu. Better?"

Katsu-sensei looked up at her. "Itachi still doesn't understand why. You aren't communicating, Yuugao."

"I feel like I don't understand what you mean, sensei," said Kane. Itachi and Yuugao looked at him in varying states of surprise, but he plowed on. "Could you elaborate, please?"

Their teacher frowned, still paused in his search. "Yuugao, you need to explain the reasons for your actions."

"Do I really have to?" Yuugao asked.

"Yes."

Yuugao took a deep breath, centering herself. "Fine. I hate that no matter how hard I try, I'll never be the strongest of the three of us. I hate that it doesn't matter that you're the most lauded genius of the generation, I'm still expected to be the best shinobi in the Academy, and the strongest of my genin team. I hate that Kane is so fucking poor and clueless that he can't keep up. And I hate the sharingan, because it means I can never match you, Itachi."

Kane's head snapped around, cheeks flaming red, staring in horror at Itachi. He didn't seem poor to her. But Itachi missed things sometimes, particularly lately — she barely had time for things that weren't training these days.

Itachi's mouth felt dry. "I feel like you should train with us," she said, before she could stop herself. "Both of you, in fact. My cousin, Shisui, is my training partner. We train most days a week, and it might help both of you to be closer to my level."

Yuugao's eyes narrowed on Itachi. "You're sure?"

"Absolutely," she said, turning to Kane. He looked mortified. "I don't care." Kane didn't seem particularly reassured, but Itachi truly meant what she said. "I'd love to have either of you."

Kane visibly gathered himself. "I — I'll try. As much as I can. I can't — I have to do other stuff sometimes, but I'll try." He looked at Yuugao. "For both of you."

Katsu-sensei smiled a small, pleased smile even as he turned the dead body over, and Itachi felt a rush of affection for him. This was good. They'd needed something like this.

A small silence ensued, and Yuugao broke it. "Can I see it? The sharingan?"

Itachi nodded, and the world sharpened. She looked over at Yuugao, and found her teammate staring back at her, smiling a little.

"It looks nice," Yuugao said, a little stiffly. Itachi would take that any day.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, congratulations, Itachi!" Kane cheered.

Katsu-sensei finally sealed the corpse back into the scroll, and stood up, holding a sheaf of paper.

He cut in, "Good job working that out. Now, back to the mission at hand. I have found most of the missing money. We should head back to Futatsuhama, and inform Fujiwara-san that his mission is complete."

"Any questions?" Katsu-sensei asked. "No? Follow me."

* * *

Team Six made good time back to Futatsuhama, arriving on the beach just as the last light of dusk was fading over the ocean. It was beautiful, but Itachi's mind wasn't on the scenery.

The question of Tetsu's motivation loomed in her mind, and not for the first time, she dearly wished he'd been alive to interrogate properly. Instead, they had a case full of money, and a scroll full of dead body, and were no closer to finding out if he had a backer or not.

Katsu-sensei led them into the bowels of the hotel, and through to the darkened reception area. The desk was empty, and the lights dim, except for the one inside the koi pond, bathing the room in low, scintillating half-light.

Since the room was empty, Katsu-sensei turned to the team. "Did you two see where Fujiwara-san's office was?"

Kane spoke up in the affirmative, but Itachi was too absorbed in her thoughts to do the same. Kane then took the lead, down half-lit hallways into the heart of the building. As they walked, Itachi turned on her sharingan again. The eyes made it easier — not to see in the dark, but to tell where her teammates were and to step with more confidence.

Fujiwara's door was closed, but light was spilling out underneath the frame and Itachi could hear whispered voices behind the wood.

Katsu-sensei stepped forward and knocked. Behind the door, Itachi heard what she thought was the rustling of clothes, and then a few footsteps sounded.

Fujiwara opened the door, looking as if he just rolled out of the bed. Itachi's sharingan noted the details — the mussed hair, the swollen lips, the ruffled collar, the edge of a bruise on his neck — and she realized he must have been with someone — in the romantic sense.

How awkward.

Of course, Katsu-sensei cared so very little for such social nuances. "We have completed our mission," he said.

"Ah-hem," Fujiwara cleared his throat. "That's er — that's nice?" It sounded like a question.

"Indeed," Katsu-sensei seemed like he wanted Fujiwara to invite them in. Itachi cringed away. This was a bit painful to watch. "We have brought the man responsible to justice. I have his corpse here in this scroll," he offered, holding it out. "I can show you, if you wish to verify he is dead."

Itachi was sincerely grateful that Katsu-sensei didn't just unseal it right then and there. Looking closer at Fujiwara, she caught a sleepy murmur at the edge of her senses, and understanding hit with crystal clarity.

"Sensei, how about we just let Fujiwara-san be tonight," Itachi interjected. "He looks like he's had a long day, and he probably wants to finish up his work so he can go to bed."

Fujiwara looked unreasonably grateful at that. "Yes, please. How about we work this out in the morning?"

Katsu-sensei nodded, and withdrew the scroll. "In the morning, then. Team Six, to bed."

Yuugao looked at Itachi, even as they began to follow Katsu-sensei up towards their room. "Don't we wanna keep an eye on him? He could make a break for it, if he thinks we're onto him."

"It wasn't him," Itachi said, sharingan whirling.

"That's what I thought too!" Kane crowed. "But I thought you suspected Fujiwara."

"I did," Itachi admitted. "I thought that he was hiding something. It turns out that I was correct. He was hiding the fact that he was sleeping with his secretary, Yumi. In fact, that was probably what they were doing together at the time of the murder — it is certainly what they are doing right now."

"Oh," Yuugao said, face a little darker in the poor lighting. Kane didn't say anything, but he didn't seem as uncomfortable as Yuugao was, to Itachi's eyes.

"Which means that we should pay a visit to Komatsu," Itachi said, looking over at Katsu-sensei for approval.

"We can do that," he said. "If you think you're onto something, Itachi."

"I do," she said. "Can I see the money you collected from Tetsu?"

Katsu-sensei dutifully handed it over. Kane looked at Itachi, frowning, and Yuugao looked genuinely interested. Itachi took the sheaf of papers, and held it up to one of the low lamps that illuminated the stairwell. A quick perusal with the sharingan told her everything she wanted to know, and a quick consultation with Kane confirmed it.

Five minutes later, Itachi had handed off the money to Yuugao, who was looking through it, and flanked by Katsu-sensei and Kane, had knocked on Komatsu's door.

He answered it, his pleasant attitude from earlier almost nonexistent. Now, Itachi could practically see the resentment simmering under his veneer of politeness.

"What do you want?" he asked roughly. "Can't it wait till morning?"

"No," Itachi said. "Because our mission is not yet complete."

"Eh? Stop acting all cryptic, Uchiha."

"Fine then," Itachi said. "Kane. What did Komatsu-san lie to us about earlier?"

"He said that Miyamoto-san had no enemies. But Miyamoto-san had to have had enemies somewhere, so he was hiding something. Mainly that he was once Miyamoto-san's rival in the business, but he was bought out. He resented that — and he resented Miyamoto's business practices."

"How…?" Komatsu looked absolutely shocked.

Kane shrugged, bashful but proud. "It seemed obvious. I wasn't totally sure on the history there, but you just confirmed it. You haven't been partners long enough to have started the business yourselves, and you aren't related, and you weren't happy with him, so it made sense."

Itachi grinned savagely. "So, you had motive." Out of the corner of her eye, she noted Katsu-sensei's proud, pleased smile.

"That doesn't prove anything!"

"It doesn't? Well, then, what about the claim that you had just finished the bookkeeping and were bringing it to Miyamoto-san? You remember, right? You claimed that it was a weekly ritual, to bring the money to the workers. So if you had all the money, how much did the killer get?"

Komatsu's face was very red, but he didn't give an inch. "Don't you dare accuse me of killing my friend, Uchiha!" He spat her name like a curse. To Itachi's eyes, he looked seconds from attacking her. Only the fact that they were shinobi and he was outmatched kept him at bay.

Itachi, however, was unfazed. "How much money did the killer have on him, Yuugao?"

Yuugao hefted the sheaf she was holding, voice saccharine, "This is a whole lot of money. How much does your business make, anyway, Komatsu-san?" She was really quite fun to watch when she was pointed at someone else.

"Er — quite a bit, young lady," he sneered.

Yuugao sneered right back. In Itachi's totally unbiased opinion, Yuugao's was better. "Not enough for you to have the weekly take and Miyamoto to have a few million on him, I'd bet."

"You're grasping at straws—"

"Don't try to deny it," Yuugao said, and Itachi could tell that she was really enjoying this. "Itachi's frustratingly smart, but he's onto you, so you might as well give up now."

Itachi couldn't help but beam at that. "Care to amend your statement?" she asked.

"Fuck. You," Komatsu spat, raising his finger to point at Itachi. Katsu-sensei was there in an instant, bending his finger back painfully.

"Tell me why," he rumbled, and that statement held a promise of such pain that Komatsu folded instantly.

"Gato promised profits!" Komatsu yelled. "It would be the kind of money you'd never see in your entire life, shinobi scum! And Miyamoto was soft, and foolish! I deserved more, instead of giving it to those fucking savages. Fair wages! Pah! Fuck that!"

"I see," Katsu-sensei said, and snapped his neck. He dropped Komatsu's body to the floor.

Kane's mouth hung open in shock. "Why?" he asked.

If Itachi wasn't mistaken, Katsu-sensei actually looked guilty. "He confessed."

"But — he's just dead? Just like that?"

Katsu-sensei nodded his head, slowly. "He is guilty. It is the penalty the Daimyo's court would have given him."

Kane looked like someone had punched him in the gut. "I — I guess I wasn't expecting that."

Yuugao offered, "It's brutal. But it was our orders."

"I don't really want to argue. Can we just go to bed?" Kane asked.

"He'll keep till morning," Katsu-sensei said. "We can go to bed."

Itachi was all for that. She was tired. It had been a long day.


	10. Coming Home

Walking back into Konoha was a relief for Itachi, because it was the first time she was allowed to walk instead of run during the three-day journey from Futatsuhama. So it was on unsteady, wiggling legs that she followed Kane and Yuugao through the great gates of Konoha.

Katsu-sensei, the bastard, didn't even look winded.

The village hadn't changed at all in the last week, but Itachi felt different, looking at it. D-ranks were missions, but they weren't _really_ missions. A genin's first C-rank was the first tentative steps into the world of ninja, and, even to Itachi, it was something of a wake-up call.

Kane was quiet, like he'd been since the night when they'd cornered Komatsu in his suite and Katsu-sensei had snapped his neck. It had affected him probably more closely than had been apparent, then, but Itachi didn't really know what to say. It was something he needed to learn himself — the shinobi lifestyle was full of things like that, and the quicker he got used to it, the better.

Yuugao, on the other hand, was making more of an effort to be friendly — it helped that the charge back to Konoha was just as brutal as the one to Futatsuhama, so there really wasn't much energy for conversation. But still, Yuugao had been, if not more friendly, certainly more polite since their talk over Tetsu's cooling corpse.

Katsu-sensei stopped them once they got in the gates, his expression serious.

"We must go and report to the Hokage on a successful mission now, but first, I want you to think on something. I am known throughout the Elemental Nations for my skill in weapons, not just the club. As my genin, I wish to offer you the option for instruction in a weapon you choose. I will not have time to teach you more than one, so choose wisely," he said, his voice and expression grave. "I am asking you now to give you time to think it through. And you can always ask me if you're not sure."

Itachi instinctively nodded, mind already whirring with possibilities.

Kane asked, "Er, I don't really know that much about this, sensei. What kind of weapon would be a good choice?"

Yuugao rolled her eyes and looked like she was about to comment, but Itachi gave her a warning look, so she settled for a scoff. Itachi could see Kane's ears turn slightly pink, but he didn't look at either of them.

"I would advise you to choose something that suits you, Kane."

"But! I don't really have many strengths, sensei! I'm alright at throwing weapons, but I don't want to learn those," Kane said.

"So choose something you'd like to be good at," Itachi suggested.

"Huh," Kane said. "What are you two thinking of?"

"I'm not sure either," Itachi said.

"A naginata," Yuugao sighed dreamily, sounding more excited than Itachi had ever heard her.

Itachi was surprised — that was an attractive choice, and it would fit Yuugao's build. She was tall and thin, with longer limbs and the kind of grace that would benefit from a polearm.

"Oh." Kane sounded a bit shocked at that choice. "That's — that's _cool_. I know! I wanna learn how to use a katana!"

Itachi winced. Katanas were very common, notably among sellswords and samurai, but most shinobi found them too long and unwieldy to be very much use. It was considered a skill weapon, and her dislike of it was almost wholly practical — a tanto or wakizashi, or Sasuke's chokuto, would be far easier to use in the shinobi version of close-quarters. It was a skill weapon, a bold declaration that you were skilled enough to kill your opponent before he ever got close.

There was also the part of her that cringed every time anyone even used the word 'katana.'

"Kane," Itachi said, "Are you sure?"

"Of course!" he shouted. "This is a great idea!"

Itachi resisted the urge to facepalm, but it was a close thing. Goddamnit, Kane. Desperate, she looked at Katsu-sensei. He was looking at Kane speculatively, sizing him up.

"If this is what you truly want, I can teach you to use a katana," he said.

"I do! I'm sure! Nobody asked Yuugao if she was sure! Why are you all asking me!?"

"As you wish," Katsu-sensei said. "Now, we must report to the Hokage. Come."

They trooped dutifully afterwards, like ducklings following their mother.

* * *

Mikoto was just carefully laying the last bit of sashimi out for lunch when she heard a careful padding of footsteps. She knew it wasn't her husband — his gait was heavier, more deliberate, and he walked with a purposeful alacrity that her older son lacked.

"Itachi?" she called out.

He appeared in the doorway, looking tired and weary. He had always looked vaguely weary — the dark shadows under his eyes, present from even a young age, were even more prominent today. She could tell he was sore, too, by the way he moved; Katsu had worked them hard, then.

Mikoto knew that Honda Katsu was a man who demanded perfection. That was what she most admired about him. She could trust him to keep her son safe, and to treat Itachi the same way he'd treat anyone else. She expected no less.

"Hello, mother," he said, voice quiet.

"You're back, then."

He nodded. "It's lovely to be home."

Mikoto smiled. "It's lovely to see you. Although, I hear someone has been asking after you for days, Itachi."

"Oh?" He looked amused. "I wonder who that could be."

Just then, Sasuke appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. He looked over and spotted Itachi, and his whole face lit up, and he took an enormous breath, swelling up like a balloon.

"ITACHI-NII!" Sasuke shouted, and launched himself at his brother.

Itachi smiled, and was instantly crouching down to scoop Sasuke up in his arms. All previous traces of his tiredness, both physical and emotional, had vanished into the joy of seeing Sasuke.

"Hey, little brother," he said cheerfully. "How have you been?"

"Good!" Sasuke said. "Mom and I drew a picture of you!"

"Really?" Itachi said. "Can I see?"

"Yes!" Sasuke shouted. Mikoto saw Itachi wince a bit at the volume.

She coughed pointedly. Itachi looked up, but Sasuke remained fixed on his brother's face.

"Sasuke, maybe you can show me after lunch. Mom is saying that we should do that, first."

"Oh," Sasuke said. Mikoto had to marvel how easily he'd capitulated — usually he had to be persuaded to sit down for lunch. Sasuke lacked Itachi's ability to sit still — instead of the quiet seriousness of his elder brother, he was full of energy, always moving around and getting into trouble.

"Sorry, Sasuke. After lunch, ok?" Sasuke didn't look entirely convinced at that, so Itachi grinned and used two fingers to poke Sasuke gently in the forehead, in imitation of his and Shisui's genjutsu spars. Sasuke's eyes crossed and he pouted.

"Hey, no fair, Itachi-nii!"

"Come on, Sasuke, your father will be here in a minute. Sit down," Mikoto said.

Her younger son bustled to the table, his attention still focused on Itachi. Her older son, however, was staring at his hand, looking as perplexed as she'd ever seen him.

"Itachi?" she asked.

He started, and looked at her, confusion still wrought upon his features. "Mom. Sorry," he said. Then he visibly gathered himself. "This looks delicious. Let's eat."

"Yes, let's," Mikoto agreed.

"Is Father not coming?" Itachi asked, as they sat down.

"He had to work again today," she said. "I had planned to go and bring him some sashimi after feeding Sasuke. Would you like to come?"

Sasuke's eyes lit up, and Itachi's lips quirked into a small smile.

"I also have a surprise for you," Itachi said.

"Oh?" Mikoto asked, meeting his eyes and seeing—

"Oh." The sharingan.

Itachi's eyes glinted cool and red, one tomoe in each. Mikoto was proud — he was still seven, even if his birthday was in a week. At that age, even a juvenile sharingan was unheard of. It was another impressive feat to go with the exhaustive list of everything else he'd done so far. To say that she was proud would be an understatement.

"Well done, Itachi," she said. "Your father will be very proud."

He nodded, looking pleased.

"Itachi-nii! Can I see?" asked Sasuke. Itachi turned to him, and his eyes went comically wide with excitement. "That's soo cool! When will I get mine?"

Itachi's smile vanished. He turned back to Mikoto, his eyes black and his face impassive.

"In a few years, Sasuke." Itachi's voice was distant, a far cry from the warm older brother he usually was.

"Itachi?" Mikoto asked.

"I'm — It's nothing, Mother," he said.

"Really, Itachi-nii!? You think I'll be like you?"

"Yes, Sasuke," Itachi said tightly.

"Sasuke. Eat your lunch," Mikoto cut in.

Things settled into quiet after that. Mikoto pondered Itachi's strange reaction to Sasuke's question. Of course Sasuke would get the sharingan. It was practically a given, after Itachi. She eyed her older son across the table. He was sitting, concentrating very hard on his food, slumped forward in thought.

Or maybe...could Itachi's sharingan have been because of something that had truly scared him? It was possible, and Itachi was violently protective of Sasuke, so it followed that he might want to spare his brother the pain.

Itachi finally seemed to muster himself, and said, "Katsu-sensei asked us to choose a weapon to learn today."

"Oh?" Mikoto replied. "And…?"

Her son glanced at her, then around the room, and she could see the shrug in his expression.

"I'm not sure what to choose. There are many sensible options. A kunai, the traditional ninja weapon. A tanto, like the ANBU use, to prepare myself better for membership."

Mikoto frowned. "If you liked either one of those options, you would have chosen already."

He nodded. Sasuke looked very interested, watching their byplay.

She didn't say anything, meeting his eyes evenly. A silent prompt to continue.

"I simply wished to seek the wisdom of my elders," Itachi said, attempting to sound innocent.

Mikoto narrowed her own eyes. He had to have some thoughts about choosing a weapon.

Itachi's eyes flicked back to the wall, where a set of fans were hung emblazoned with the Uchiha crest.

She followed. "A fan, huh?"

"Yes, mother. A weapon like that would be...meaningful, to me."

"Meaningful," Mikoto repeated, eyeing Itachi. "Well, you have the grace for it. Men aren't as graceful as women, but you, Itachi, might just be graceful enough to make it work."

Her son twitched a bit, frowning, but he nodded. "I would like that, Mother."

She smiled. "Another thing I would be helping to teach you. Your poor father might get jealous at this rate."

Sasuke had finished his dinner at this point, and was looking a bit bored. "Why a fan?" he interjected. "Why not something like...a katana! Those are cool!"

"Not a chokuto?" Itachi asked, wry amusement in his tone.

"Those too! Why not a sword, Itachi-nii?"

"I want a weapon that I can integrate into my current style, not something that will require me to unlearn a significant amount of what I've learned so far."

Sasuke didn't look at all convinced. "But swords are so _cool_."

Itachi's smile was fond. "Well, when you become a ninja, then you should learn to wield a sword, Sasuke."

"I will! I'll be the best ninja ever!" Sasuke declared. "One day I'll be even better than you, Itachi-nii!"

Itachi's face looked just as cold, tired, and distant as before, but when he answered, his tone was full of warmth. "You will, Sasuke. Believe it."

Sasuke _beamed_.

"Come on, Itachi-nii! I want to show you my picture!" he said, dragging his brother up by the arm. Itachi quickly shoveled a last piece of fish into his mouth and got up, allowing Sasuke to pull him away from the table.

"Sasuke," Mikoto said sternly. "I need to speak to Itachi about something. I'll send him along to you in a minute, ok?"

"Why?" Sasuke asked. "Big brother has been away all week! I want to play with him now!"

"Because I said so, and I'm your mother," Mikoto said.

"But Mooooom!"

"No buts, young man. Go get your stuff together. Now."

Sasuke glared at her, sulking, but she stood firm. Itachi watched, impassive. Mikoto was proud of him, then, because of that impassiveness. But it was tinged with a bit of sadness, because it meant she couldn't read him as well as she'd used to be able to.

Sasuke eventually relented, dropping his eyes and huffing dramatically as he stormed off into the hall. Itachi watched him go, still quiet.

"Is everything alright, Itachi?" Mikoto asked.

"Of course," he said.

"It doesn't sound like it," she rebutted.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Itachi, I watched you talk to Sasuke there, about the sharingan. Something bothered you."

Itachi stared at her for a second, and then he looked down, cheeks coloring.

"You're not old enough to fool your mom yet, Itachi."

He smiled sheepishly.

"Sasuke's going to grow up," Itachi said.

"All children grow up, Itachi."

"It's more than that, Mom. It's what he's going to grow up to be, to do."

Mikoto leaned down and put her hand on Itachi's head. "Don't you think I thought that way about you, too? I have to worry about both of my shinobi sons."

He twitched. "I just...I wish that Sasuke could grow up differently."

"Itachi," Mikoto said. "How do you know how Sasuke will grow up?"

"I—" he started, and then stopped, and started again. "I don't know, no—"

"Then don't decide for him," Mikoto said gently.

He looked at her — her smart, capable, oh so mature, genius son — more helpless than she'd ever seen him. "I'm not — Sasuke — what this will do to him will break him, more powerfully and irreparably than you can imagine. Shinobi are those who must endure. How am I supposed to allow such a life to befall my little brother?"

"A shinobi must endure, Itachi," Mikoto repeated his words back to him. "But do not decide for Sasuke who he will grow to be before he does. Let him have a chance to be like you — that is his dream, no?"

"That's precisely what I'm worried about," Itachi said, morbidly.

"Itachi!" Mikoto said harshly. "What is with you today?"

He didn't say anything, just stared at her sullenly. "Did something happen?"

"How so, mother?"

"Don't close me out like this, Itachi," she urged.

"I don't want to see him suffer," he said, and his words were like lonely footsteps.

"Itachi, Itachi, Itachi," Mikoto said, and clutched him tight to her chest. Her heart went out to him. "Sasuke is a little boy still. You can't protect him from everything."

"I don't — I don't want him to become a ninja."

"But you can't make that decision for him, sweetheart. If I had my way, neither of you would be ninja at all." And she meant it — Fugaku had wanted an heir, yes, but it was more about Itachi's genius and their position at the center of the clan. Life had expectations for them all.

Itachi looked at her with watery eyes. "But — I'm not like he is. He's still innocent."

She drew back and poked his nose. "I'm not so sure about that, Itachi. Is this about your mission?"

Itachi looked past her. "They just...died." He paused, and his eyes looked far too old for his face. "I know it sounds...I knew they would die. I wanted them to. And it was fine when it happened. But I close my eyes...and I can't get it out of my head?" The question was quiet, frantic. "I keep seeing them, dead. Like that. And Komatsu — I had him killed. I didn't even hesitate. What am I turning into? What will I turn Sasuke into? Even if everything goes right, he'll still have to face this. The death. The inevitability. The fact that we are trained killers for hire, working in a world where the only true understanding of things comes from violence."

Mikoto wasn't quite sure what to say. Morbidly, she thought that other mothers didn't have to face this problem. Most mothers had to deal with eight-year-olds worried about having fun and their class rank in the academy, not the panicked existential horror of a too-precocious genius.

She sighed. "Itachi, I'm not sure if you can do anything to fix this. The only thing you can do is be there for Sasuke. Like I'm trying to be here for you. Now — no! Listen to me, young man."

Her son glared at her with half-glazed eyes. Mulishly, he nodded.

"A shinobi is a killer. This is a fact. You know this, Itachi, and I know this. And you can't escape it, any more than I could." Her voice turned wistful, but Itachi needed to know this. She reached out and touched his face gently. "I'm sorry, my son. But this is the world we live in. And no son of mine will allow it to crush him. You must deal with it. And maybe when you become Hokage, you can change it."

Itachi's eyes were again unreadable, like a mountain wreathed in fog. "Yes, Mother."

And as he got up, his body language telegraphing the fact that he was fine, she couldn't help but wonder if, behind those distant, unfathomable eyes, he wasn't.

* * *

Kane felt the nervousness twinge in his gut, the moment he rounded the corner towards the Uchiha compound. He reminded himself that Itachi had invited him, and that he was supposed to be here, but it didn't help much. The walls were high, and every segment was marked with the red and white fan of their clan.

He briefly pondered why they needed it _every_ segment, but, upon a second thought, it made sense. The rest of them seemed always to be bragging about the fact that they were Uchiha. Their compound wouldn't be immune to that attitude, too.

It was strange, then, that Itachi was the heir when he was anything but stuck-up. He could probably do with being a bit more stuck-up, honestly, or at least, a bit more confidence in himself.

It seemed weird to Kane that a kid who constantly heard how great he was would have self-confidence issues, and Kane had initially thought that Itachi was simply very humble, but the difference was both small and significant.

Instead of taking in all the effusive praise and becoming entirely and irrevocably convinced of his own greatness, Uchiha Itachi saw all that praise as an impossibly high bar to set himself against. Instead of basking in it, he set himself against his own legend. Why, Kane wasn't sure. But he knew what he saw, and he saw that Itachi was deathly afraid of not living up to _something_.

Either way, he was invited. So despite how austere the compound looked, and how distinctly unfriendly the look the watchman was giving him was, he belonged there.

So he marched right up and told the man that.

"Really?" The man said. He didn't look impressed.

Kane stood up straight and gathered himself. "Uchiha Itachi is my teammate. He asked me to train with him, and that's exactly what I will do."

"Is that so?"

"Kane!" A shout jostled him out of giving any response. He turned.

"Yuugao," he breathed, more relieved than usual to see her.

"What are you doing waiting outside like a dumbass?" she asked.

Kane immediately clamped down the inner surge of self-admonition at her words, and said, "This guy doesn't wanna let me in."

"Is that so?" she asked. "Hey, you!" The man sneered at her. "We're Itachi-san's teammates! We're supposed to train with him! Are you going to let us in, or are you going to be a dick like usual?"

The man squawked in outrage, and Kane sighed. Now he probably wasn't going to let them in at all. But, he mused, as Yuugao opened her mouth to respond, at least this guy had to deal with Yuugao's brutal tongue while he did it.

"Fine," she said. "Go get him then. We'll wait. And then you can explain to him how you were too much of a stuck-up prick to let us in! Somehow, I doubt the fact that you were upset about getting stuck on guard duty will cut it."

"Perhaps I will, then," the man said. "Tekka! Come make sure this rifraff doesn't get in!"

Another, equally surly Uchiha, this man greying at the temples, came around the gate and stared them down. The first man went in through the gate, and they were left standing in awkward silence.

Yuugao, however, didn't seem content to let the silence slip. "What? Did you really think we were lying? Are you really risking getting in shit because you genuinely believe we're not telling the truth?"

The man didn't reply, just bristled a bit.

Yuugao raised her arms defensively. "Look, I'm just asking what your game plan is. 'Cuz it doesn't seem like you've got much of one."

"The plan is to not let just any jumped-up genin brat intimidate her way into our compound," the man shot back.

"Good thing I have permission, then."

"We," Kane piped in. "We have permission."

Yuugao shot him a glare, but she didn't disagree. The man just looked unimpressed, even as the silence built into a tense ceasefire, both sides eyeing each other distrustfully.

Kane felt like that was about as good as it was going to get, so he kept quiet. After a minute or so, there was a slight creak of the gate, and Itachi peeked around it, followed closely by the original gate guard.

The dark-haired boy laid eyes on Kane and Yuugao, sighed, and turned to the man beside him. "Inabi, these are my teammates. Please, from now on, allow them to pass through the gates."

The original guard, Inabi, looked thoroughly unhappy about this development. Itachi, however, continued to smile placidly as if he wasn't aware of the man's obvious frustration.

"Fine, Itachi- _sama_."

Itachi's smile didn't dim in the slightest. "Thank you for so diligently guarding the gate," he said, and bowed.

The man's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything. Itachi turned to them. "Kane, Yuugao. A pleasure to see you."

Kane burst into a bright grin, and even Yuugao seemed to soften.

"Let's go," Kane said, eager to get going.

Itachi nodded, and brought them into the gate. Inside was a clean, spacious district of people who all had the same looks — midnight-dark hair, darker eyes and pale white skin. Kane couldn't stop staring.

"We're going to one of the outer training grounds," Itachi said, setting a brisk pace. Kane wanted to stop and observe the place a bit, but Itachi was hurrying away, a bit pink around the ears.

Kane looked at Yuugao, but she was hurrying along after Itachi. He sighed, and jogged a bit to catch up.

After rounding a bend and passing through a row of small, quiet storefronts, they came to a small field. The grass was thick and tall, and it stood in what felt like the middle of the district as a central meeting place. Kane looked around, eagerly. This was where Itachi trained? It looked...well, it looked rather public.

"Not here," Itachi said, hurrying them along.

"Why not?" Kane asked.

Itachi was quiet for a moment, but he didn't slow. "This isn't the kind of training ground we want to have practice in," he finally decided on.

"Why not?" Kane repeated.

"It's not for practice," Itachi said.

Kane looked back at the field. "Then what's it for?"

Itachi huffed a bit, and muttered, "It's for showing off."

Kane thought about that. If it was a big field for showing off, then who would the Uchiha show off to? Themselves? Kane cocked his head. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. The Uchiha were awfully good at showing off to other people so it made sense that they'd have to practice by showing off to each other.

Huh. So the Uchiha had a big field in their compound for showing off to each other. Kane rather felt like he could have seen this coming.

Itachi led them past the showing-off field, through another street of dark houses, until the homes became more and more sparse, and the little bit of urban development gave way into woods. The dirt path stopped once it reached a river, but Itachi dove right off, onto what looked like a rarely-used hunting trail.

It wasn't a place that Kane would have found himself, but Itachi moved with ease that suggested he took this route regularly.

The small path took them down to the river's edge, where a small trail of stones stepped carefully across the river. Itachi barely broke stride, dashing across nimbly.

Yuugao stepped out after him, and Kane scrambled to keep up. Itachi was as quick and agile as ever, but Yuugao was a little less so, and Kane was inwardly very pleased to be able to keep up with her.

Across the river, there was another ill-used deer trail through the woods, which opened into a small clearing, by the river. It was quiet, lovely, and isolated.

And there was a person in it. Not quite a man, but tall and slim and surprisingly wild-looking for an Uchiha. He looked up at them as he approached, and his face burst into a bright grin.

"Itachi-chan!" he crowed, flipping around the kunai in his hand. A collection of them were embedded into a stump, behind him.

Kane felt his jaw drop. He side-eyed a glance at Itachi, who wasn't annoyed or even frowning. He looked exasperated; but fond at the same time. Yuugao, on Itachi's other side, looked just as confused as he did.

"Shisui-sempai," Itachi said. "I didn't expect you to be here today."

The now-named Shisui grinned. "I got out of my mission early! And I heard from Mikoto-obachan that you were supposed to be training today, so I thought I'd come here and see you!"

Itachi frowned, and glared a bit at Shisui. It wasn't his full-on death glare, but it was his intense, scrutinizing glare, the kind he used when he thought people were lying to him.

"I see," he said, neutrally. "These are my teammates, Uzuki Yuugao, and Kasshoku Kane."

Shisui made a weird, high-pitched noise of excitement halfway between a squeal and a shriek that Kane had been sure he'd never hear anyone named Uchiha come close to uttering. First, 'Itachi-chan,' and now this? Who was this guy?

"He's my cousin, and my sparring partner, Uchiha Shisui," Itachi replied. It was only then that Kane realized he'd spoken the last question out loud.

He felt himself pale a bit from embarrassment, but Shisui just laughed.

"Man, your teammate is great!"

Yuugao, however, seemed to think this was vaguely insulting to her. "Are you even a real Uchiha? You don't sound like any of them."

"Hey, I'll have you know that I'm one of the best Uchiha. We have a rankings of the best Uchiha every week, and I'm in the top five every time. Right, Itachi?"

Itachi sighed, the edge of exasperation creeping into his tone now. "Shisui. Play nice. We're having a team bonding experience."

"Oh wow! I wanna play too, Itachi-chan!"

Itachi looked around, at Yuugao and Kane. Kane thought for a half-second that he was pleading for help, but after Yuugao shrugged, he realized Itachi was asking if that was fine.

"I don't mind, Itachi-chan," Kane said, letting a smirk curl his lips. Shisui guffawed from behind him.

"Fine," Itachi said, mouth set in a firm line. "Let's start with a spar."

Kane grinned, and reached into his pouch, and drew out a scroll, unsealing a long, thin sword from the depths. He'd brought his new katana and he was eager to test it out.

Itachi eyed it warily. Kane felt a cold curling in his gut. Itachi hadn't been behind the idea of the katana from the start. What if he really just thought it was dumb but was too polite to say anything?

"What are the rules?" Yuugao asked, breaking Kane from his worries.

Itachi glanced over at Shisui, who was eyeing Kane's sword. "I call him," Shisui said, pointing at Kane. "We'll do two on two."

Yuugao snorted, and then she grinned. "I like these teams. Now I remember — my sister told me about you, Uchiha Shisui. I'll stick with Itachi."

"So be it," Itachi said. "Nothing lethal." Then he nodded to Yuugao, and they stepped away from Kane and Shisui.

Shisui turned to Kane, and asked, "Ok, what's the plan, here?"

Kane shrugged. "Itachi's basically unbeatable, but Yuugao's not so good at jutsu?" he said, unsure.

"Nah, I can take Itachi," Shisui countered. "His problem is he thinks too much, and I'm faster."

"You _do_ know he's got the sharingan, right?" Kane asked.

Shisui didn't say anything to that. Instead, he winked, and Kane saw the flash of red in his eyes.

"The jutsu thing, however, is useful," he said, brow furrowed in concentration. "Ok. As soon as we start, I'll hit her with a genjutsu, and then we'll both rush Itachi. Sound good?"

"Sure," Kane replied, looking over at the other side of the field, where Itachi and Yuugao huddled together, conversing.

"Oi! Tachi-chan! Let's go!" Shisui shouted.

The two looked up. "It's on, losers!" Yuugao jeered.

Itachi nodded as well, and then Shisui was darting forward, almost as if he was on fast-forward, and the rest of them were on regular speed. Kane rushed to catch up, but Shisui easily outpaced him, a kunai in his hand, sharingan whirling.

Kane looked to Yuugao, but she was staring off into space. Shisui must have already hit her with the genjutsu. Kane brought his sword up to guard, and moved to flank Itachi.

Shisui had closed to close range — he struck out with the kunai, but Itachi didn't as much dodge as flow around the swing. Itachi swung back, a deceptively graceful move that looked like a sloppy karate chop. Shisui didn't dodge, tensing his arm to receive the somewhat limp blow, when a fan unfurled in Itachi's outstretched hand and gouged the fan's razor-sharp spokes into Shisui's skin.

He hissed and jumped back, his retreat leaving a hole for Kane to come in with an overhand swing. Itachi, however, was already drifting past; the graceful follow-through on his strike moved him barely enough past the falling sword to avoid it. Whether it was a deliberate dodge using the sharingan or purely accidental, Kane couldn't tell, but the move was so smooth that the difference was indiscernible.

Kane felt his gut churn, but Shisui was already on his other side, kunai raised. Itachi aborted his movement, slamming the fan closed and meeting the kunai with its flat edge. Recovering with his sword would take too long, and Itachi was too close, so Kane lashed out with his foot. Itachi took the blow on his thigh, wincing.

"Come on," Shisui said, another kunai in his hand, slashing wildly in his haste.

But by the time Kane managed to gather enough momentum to attempt a second slash, Itachi had a fan and a kunai, and somehow the advantage. Then, he found that a properly wielded hand fan could in fact block a katana, before Itachi cornered Shisui, and held a kunai to his arm.

"Gotcha," he said. Shisui pouted, but then was over behind Yuugao a heartbeat later. She didn't wake until he held a kunai to her throat and pronounced her dead.

"That's not fair," she protested. "You used genjutsu. That's a cheap way to win!"

But none of them were paying her much mind. In the moment of Shisui's absence, Kane found himself down a dominant hand, as well, and he didn't know much about left-handed swordsmanship, so he found himself face-to-face with Shisui, Itachi at his back, a kunai pressed against his throat.

"You've lost, sempai," Itachi taunted. "If this were a real battle, you'd have to surrender so I don't kill Kane."

"Oh?" Shisui said, sounding deliberately airy. "But you let your teammate die to take my hostage, so I came off better."

Itachi scoffed, but Kane was fed up with this bickering. He bit his lip, bitterness gathering at the cold steel pressed against his neck. "Stop! I thought we were supposed to be training together!" Shisui seemed taken aback, and Yuugao, too, took note of the suddenly-tense mood. "This isn't — nobody's improving here!" Itachi's grip tightened for a millisecond, and then relaxed. "Itachi, we give up!"

Shisui looked vaguely mutinous, but he didn't protest when Itachi let Kane go. "What, we can't spar now?"

"That's not what he meant and you know it, sempai," Itachi said quietly.

Shisui crossed his arms. "Fine."

"All I'm saying is that we should make some ground rules. Yuugao didn't even get to do anything at all." The girl in question scoffed, but Kane could tell she was listening. "It can't be like this — we need a system that lets us learn something other than you two are really good," he said.

"That's a good idea," Itachi conceded. "A free-for-all is perhaps not optimal. What do you suggest, Kane?" Almost as an afterthought, he added, conciliatory, "I can show you some of what I know of the katana — my father taught me a bit."

Kane felt his face break into a small smile. Asking that was as good as approval from Itachi. He felt a wave of relief.

"I'd love that," he said.

Itachi nodded. "We can talk about that afterwards, though. Did you want to say something about our spar?"

And then, they were all looking at him, expectantly. Even Shisui, who he had only just met today, and Yuugao, who he was pretty sure hated him. He couldn't back down now.

"Well, let's start with the basics. Show me the rules of cutting off limbs or pronouncing people dead."

And miraculously, they all leapt to comply. It was a position that he wasn't used to at all, and that he quite liked — people looking to him for answers.

And it was where he found himself, time and time again, in the center of their team.

* * *


	11. Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for serious dysphoria/dysmorphia. This is a rough one.

Itachi readied herself, and opened her eyes.

The world shifted, and the canopy of deciduous trees above her were thrown into sharp relief. A gentle breeze rustled the branches of one, and Itachi could see the individual branches twisting as the force from the gust of wind buffeted the leaves strongly enough to bend them out of shape. Like tiny kites, pulling wooden strings, set in a collage above her.

Absently, she noted that the tree just past it was slowly dying — there was an infection or disease that had stunted its ability to feed itself, and it would starve to death within a decade.

"Itachi," Fugaku said, and she looked up at him. "Prepare yourself."

Itachi barely had time to register her father's hands flash in sequence, his eyes still averted, before she was suddenly elsewhere, standing on an icy plateau, a trio of giant, frozen swordsmen slowly marching towards her through the falling snow. Their cloaks flapped in the wind, the only noise in the otherwise resounding silence of the winter storm.

She gritted her teeth, and gust of air escaped her mouth as she began to shiver in the sub-zero temperature. The wind picked up, and the angle of the snowflakes changed, and the swordsmen still lumbered forward. Itachi looked around, half-panicked, until another violent shudder nearly broke her concentration.

If there was a key, it was probably the giants — the most obvious and immediate threat. Itachi let loose a few kunai, but they clattered away harmlessly and the ice protected any viable weak point in their armor.

Itachi broke into a run, prepping the handsigns for a fireball. A few quick strides, and she was up in the air, a deep breath in her mouth and fire on the tip of her tongue.

The middle giant's sword arced through the middle of her jump, intending to separate her body right above the nipples, but she gathered chakra to her spine and leaned back, twisting so she was looking at the ground.

The sword passed overhead, and Itachi whirled back into position, spitting out a gout of flame and flipping around to land an axe kick on the apex of the swordsman's forehead. He crumbled, and Itachi plummeted after him, through the wake of her jutsu. It was the first time she had been warm in the genjutsu, and, in that shining moment, the technique became obvious — it was a paralyzing cold.

As she touched down, she summoned chakra to her eyes, and a white-hot beam of flame shot out from her eyelids, searing through a second giant completely. A quick 180, and the second plummeted in half, too.

And then she found herself facing Fugaku, in their training spot beneath the canopy of trees.

"Very good," he said. "The March of the Glaciating Frost is a totally immersive genjutsu. It clouds the target's mind and evokes despair, but is defeated by heat and light, and is halted by motion. Your defense of it, then, was nearly impeccable. More so because this is your first introduction to this particular technique. Well done, Itachi."

Itachi bowed her head. "Thank you, Father."

"Your skill with the sharingan has come a long way, my son. But — did you use a technique to avoid the attack in the genjutsu?"

Itachi chuckled, feeling a smile form. Her pride at her new jutsu far outweighed any amount of Fugaku's particular brand of compliments.

"I did, actually."

Her father's raised eyebrows prompted her to continue.

"I don't have a name for it yet, but I developed a way to increase flexibility in my joints and muscles using chakra. It builds on the system of training that Katsu-sensei uses — pushing us beyond all reasonable endurance. Instead, I've pushed my muscles, joints, and tendons beyond all reasonable flexibility, and used chakra to make up the difference."

Fugaku's eyebrows were still raised, but this time from surprise. "Impressive. Show me."

Itachi gathered chakra to her spine again, and then calmly stood perfectly straight, bending backwards and stretching her arms over her head until they touched the ground. The comfortable burn of stretching returned, and she gripped the ground, pushing off with her legs until she was doing a handstand.

Then, she concentrated again, this time on her thighs and hips, and then, legs perfectly straight, stretched one out in front and one out in back. A perfect split, upside down in midair.

Itachi held it for roughly twenty seconds, and then straightened up, and flipped back onto her feet. Fugaku's mouth had parted slightly in surprise, and his sharingan pulsed at her.

"You augment your natural flexibility with chakra, then. A useful, if chakra-intensive, ability."

Itachi nodded. "I've noted something. The more I use the technique, the less chakra it takes to use. Using it actually improves my natural flexibility."

Fugaku nodded, and then cocked his head at Itachi. "Your hips are wider."

"What?" Itachi said, feeling her mouth fall open in shock. "How?"

He nodded. "Would wider hips not improve your flexibility?"

"I don't — would they?" Itachi considered that. They probably would. Her fingers twitched, so she clenched her hands. "But how did I not notice?"

"I observed this only through use of the sharingan," Fugaku said. "It likely will not significantly impact you without long-term use of this technique." Itachi nodded, almost dumbly. "I would consider, then, what is worth more to you."

Itachi stared at him, slowly moving her hands across her hips to check, deliberately attempting to conceal her excitement. "How so?"

"Wider hips might allow you to perform this technique more easily, but would come with their own drawbacks, as well. You are a ninja and, in the eyes of any official record, an adult. I trust you will consider whatever choice you make — all jutsu have drawbacks, and an intimate knowledge of yours is by far the best way to become strong."

Itachi thought for a second. What he said made sense — and it was very flattering. He was basically trusting Itachi to know what was best for herself — telling her that she had reached the point where he felt comfortable entrusting the decision of how best to train herself up to her.

"Thank you, Father."

"I think that will be all for today, Itachi. You are dismissed." Whether he had been planning to do that all along, or whether it was a recent development because of her new jutsu, Itachi didn't care.

She sketched out a quick bow to her father, lingering exactly low and long enough to be respectful. Then she was dashing away, out of the training ground and towards her house, located in the more centralized part of the Uchiha District. It was a run that she had done before, many times, and her feet fell into a disappointingly familiar cadence against the ground.

If her hips were wider, she didn't notice.

She redoubled her pace, flying through an alley, across a street, past a stoop-backed Uchiha Teyaki sweeping in front of the senbei shop, down another alley. Her house popped into sight, and she sprinted up the front path, in the door, halting very briefly to check to make sure she was alone. The family room, the garden, and the kitchen were all clear. Sasuke's room and her parents' room were similarly empty.

She dashed to her own room, and shut the door.

Itachi then kicked off her boots, and ripped off her shirt, then the undershirt underneath it. She then ripped off the loose shinobi pants and underclothes, leaving her standing in only the bandage wrap she wore around her chest to evoke the feeling of having breasts. She turned, holding her breath, and stared at herself in the mirror, sharingan whirling.

She still looked like a boy.

Her hips were wider by a small fraction, but that was because her bones were shifting slightly to make herself more naturally disposed to flexibility. The only thing staring back at her was a thin, pale, red-eyed boy, his reflection growing blurry even as she stared.

Itachi threw herself on the bed, choking back a sob. It was stupid, to get herself so worked up over the possibility. Of course she wouldn't look any different. She hadn't even noticed a difference running, and Fugaku had needed the sharingan to spot it in the first place.

She'd been perfectly fine before he'd said something and gotten her hopes up — the flexibility jutsu was an intermediate step to a hormone one. Her body was still young — she was nine, still solidly in pre-adolescence, with plenty of time to work it out before puberty.

So why in the name of everything and anything was she crying? There was no reason to. It was just a body — it didn't _matter_ , not really. Not in the long run. Itachi had bigger fish to fry — getting into ANBU, making sure that she wasn't put into a situation where massacre was her only option, and the eventual confrontation with Obito and the Akatsuki.

She could do all of those things the way she was. Those things were the things she should be worrying about, not this. Appearances were superficial, so it was vain and selfish to focus more on them than on the lives of everyone in the clan.

Itachi rolled to her side, feeling tears soak into the pillow. She hated this, this feeling that it was both completely unbearable and all in her head.

She was working on it. It was something she was confident she could do, in a few years, in time to avoid the crushing ennui of puberty.

In a few years. She'd waited four, since truly coming to awareness. Nine, if she counted being young enough to know something was off but not enough to identify it. Thirty-one, if she counted that other life.

Thirty-one years spent horrified, half-revolted, and trapped in her own skin, as if she'd been standing up and letting someone walk by in the movie theater, desperately pushed against the seat in an effort to make up as little room as possible.

In a few more years, she'd be back as far as she'd ever gotten, purposefully overwhelming her endocrine system to achieve of a facsimile of what half the population had freely given to them.

And then she'd be free to pursue embodied habitability, without fear of crushing depression or puberty making her too masculine to pass.

In a few _years_.

Itachi closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

She stood up, mostly naked, and went to her discarded clothing. A kunai might be a better blade for what she wanted, but her fans were sharper. Her hand quivered slightly, drawing the lacquered wood from her pocket. A sharper blade would give that split second before the pain and the blood, meaning that she had the split second she needed to cauterize the wound before applying a medical jutsu.

A flick of her wrist opened the fan. The red and white uchiwa of her clan stared back at her, accusing. The fan was a gift from her mother, custom-made for her. What would Mikoto think? She would undoubtedly be horrified, if she knew.

Itachi moved back to the mirror. Staring back at her was that pale, blurry boy, the sharingan swirling.

A thin, long-fingered hand reached down, and grasped fleshy, bulbous appendages. A palm pushed back the shaft against a pelvis, and fingers held testicles up in the air, exposing the loose skin of the scrotal sac and the ductus deferens.

The sharingan was a peerless tool for taijutsu, allowing the bearer to instantly calculate force, strength and speed in way that looked to the any reasonable observer like clairvoyance.

A single, surgical strike would cut through the scrotum and sever the ever-important vessel beneath it. Nimble fingers would then grab the now-loose testicles and discard them. Two handsigns, aided by the sharingan and done with a closed fan in the same hand, would produce a searing heat that would instantly seal the wound shut. It would be terrifically painful, but a basic healing jutsu would take the edge off and prevent major scarring.

Itachi closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

Blood splattered the floor.


	12. Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: violence, gore

Fujikawa Kotaro glanced nervously at his daughter. Saori grinned back at him, dark eyes squishing together. She stood up and stretched, her black dress blowing in the wind.

He shivered a bit, and glanced back to his precious shoji door, sitting in a careful cradle behind the wagon. An aging, grey horse pulled the small cart, specifically built to hold the valuable cargo.

Everyone in the Elemental Nations knew of Fujikawa Kotaro, famous tategu-ya, artisan craftsman of shoji screen doors. This particular door was a delivery to a high-ranking noble in Fire Country, the man who ruled Tanzaku-gai. Of course - the nobility didn't truly rule Tanzaku Gai as much as graciously accept payments from both the major casinos and the local ruling Yakuza. As long as the violence didn't get bad enough to warrant shinobi intervention, he allowed laissez faire, and skimmed more than his share off the top.

As such, Kotaro didn't feel the slightest bit guilty about overcharging him for the finest shoji door in the business.

He cleared his throat. "Saori," Kotaro said.

"Yes, Papa?" she chirped, jumping up and standing straight.

"Er," he coughed out. "Is everything alright? You don't - you don't see anyone nearby, right?"

Saori peered at him, ten-year-old eyes widened comically. "Of course not, Papa! I can't see anyone out there that you can't, silly! Why don't you ask Guard-san if he sees anyone? He's the one who's supposed to be in charge of this sort of stuff."

The brown-haired man ambling beside the wagon gave a little wave.

"Hey, Guard-san!" Saori called, waving her arm exuberantly.

"Yes, Saori-chan?" Guard-san asked, his exasperation obvious.

"Papa wants to know if you see anyone-" she waggled her fingers for emphasis, "-suspicious."

"No, Saori-chan," the man replied, evidently not one with much patience for children.

"Thanks, Guard-san!" the little black-haired girl said. "See, Papa? Guard-san will see any bad guy coming from a mile off, won't he!?"

"Of course, Saori-chan," the man agreed with a forced amiability.

Kotaro nodded, but he couldn't keep his hands from trembling as he glanced away from her, cricking his neck a bit. His wife always told him to never do business with criminals, and he should have listened to her. But the lure of being able to retire this year and live off his savings, away from all of this was too great. The business of making the finest doors in the known world was surprisingly dangerous - the odds of being murdered by ninja were much higher, the more skill a person had.

The lazy caravan lapsed into silence again, and Kotaro didn't quite relax, but he forced himself to stop jumping at every little sound.

Of course, when the danger did come, it wasn't in a whisper in the woods, or a sound at the edge of his hearing.

It was a man, jumping forward into the middle of the path. He straightened up, revealing his white vest, and the headband looped casually around his left bicep. A field of clouds were etched into the metal.

Kotaro cursed. "A ninja! Tetsuya - What do I pay you for?"

The quiet, brown-haired man affectionately labelled 'Guard-san' was between them in the next instant, a kunai in his hand, his leaf headband flashing in challenge.

"This is all the Leaf can bother to send? The Kyuubi must have ravaged you harshly indeed, then," the enemy ninja taunted, drawing a sword. "Fujikawa Kotaro! The Raikage wants to speak to you! Surrender yourself, or face the consequences!"

"Your opponent is me!" Tetsuya called, throwing off his cloak and revealing the green vest beneath it. His hands moved into handsigns, even as the Kumo-nin dashed forward.

Tetsuya's finished jutsu was a wave of fire, but his opponent neatly flipped over the attack and came down with an overhand slash, his sword glinting in the midday sun. Tetsuya barely dodged out of the way, and his return kunai toss was deflected away with another glint of the sword.

The Kumo-nin's blade flashed a third time, and blood fountained from Tetsuya's chest. Kotaro gasped, until the falling Konoha-nin burst in a cloud of smoke, revealing a sword buried in a log, and Tetsuya nowhere to be seen.

"Fucking logs," the Kumo-nin muttered, and twitched. A net was whistling through the air, whirling around and falling straight for Kotaro. He scrambled to get away, but the net fell on him, and he fell off the wagon, landing painfully on his hip.

A flurry of kunai dashed out of the boughs of one of the trees, bordering the road, and the Kumo-nin threw himself to the side. More kunai followed, though, in rapid succession, forcing him to deflect them with his sword. He made an aborted motion, drawing his hand flat across the blade, and then threw it, straight as an arrow, up into the the trees. A succession of broken kunai fell to the ground in the energized sword's wake, and Tetsuya fell into view, his hand bleeding freely. He fell awkwardly, and barely kept his feet.

The kumo-nin made a motion with his fingers, and his sword reappeared in his hand. He dashed forward, cut through a fireball, and then followed up with a perfect slash at neck level, intended to neatly separate a man's head from his shoulders.

Tetsuya would have lost his head...had he been standing a foot to the left. Instead, the Kumo-nin slashed through empty space, overbalancing awkwardly.

In that moment, Tetsuya disappeared in a cloud of smoke, replaced by Saori - short, sweet, smiling Saori. Her smile didn't dim, either, even as she reached forward, eyes glinting a hellish red, the opened fan grasped firmly in her delicate hand slashing across his throat.

Looking somewhat perplexed, he lifted a hand to his neck, and for a split second, it looked like she hadn't cut him at all. Then, the red gushed, staining his white vest a thick, bloody crimson. The Kumo-nin crumpled to the ground.

Kotaro shuddered. No matter what he told himself, the ten-year-old child shinobi that had been assigned to protect him was fucking creepy as hell, and those red eyes meant that they had to be some kind of demon. No child should be that cold, that emotionless, and that good at killing people. And the fact that they were impersonating his daughter, forcing him to pretend they were familiar made it even worse.

"Took you fucking long enough, brat," Tetsuya grimaced, holding his bleeding hand.

And, of course, the fact that Tetsuya kept calling them a boy, when Kotaro would have wagered his entire fortune that they were a girl didn't help in the slightest.

"I am sorry, Tetsuya-san. Our opponent was formidable, and I was waiting for a killing blow," the creepy child replied, in a voice just as ambiguous as their appearance.

Tetsuya grunted, but he didn't reply. The child moved to the corpse, using their foot to turn the dead man onto his back, before they leaned down and pressed a thin, pale hand to his face, tilting it up.

"He's in the Bingo Book," 'Saori' said.

"Oh?" the man asked. "Anyone I've heard of?"

"Daisuke, of the Quickened Blade. Funny thing, that."

Tetsuya grunted. "Worth anything?"

The kid stared down at the corpse. "A fair amount," they said. "Although I suppose that it's a bit excessive, sending a man like him after you, Kotaro-san."

Kotaro shrugged. "The Raikage was very insistent on acquiring one of my doors."

Tetsuya eyed him, but didn't comment. 'Saori' drew a short knife from somewhere, leaning down over the dead Kumo-nin. Kotaro averted his eyes, fighting his revulsion. He knew what was coming, and he wanted none of it.

"Do you have to do that now, Uchiha?" Tetsuya asked. "He could have had a partner."

"He did, Tetsuya-san," the kid replied.

"Aren't you the least bit worried about his partner, who could be ready to jump out at us right this moment?"

"No." Kotaro winced. What was the procedure for when your assigned ninja got into a fight?

Tetsuya sighed, very dramatically, and threw his hands up in the air. "I'll just wait over here then for him to come attack us, then, will I?"

'Saori' - Uchiha, Tetsuya had called them - said, "Of course not. I already killed his partner. Her body's over in the bushes over there."

Tetsuya made an inarticulate noise of anger. Kotaro couldn't contain his shudder this time.

"When," he asked, his voice low and seething, "were you going to tell me this?"

"I'm telling you now," 'Saori' said, straightening up from their crouch, blade in one hand and severed head in another. Kotaro felt himself puke in his mouth, but choked it down as he averted his eyes. Did the kid have to hold it up like that?

"And I suppose you've got the other nin's head somewhere in those seals of yours, too?"

"Of course not," 'Saori' said. "I was too busy helping you."

"And I suppose you're going to keep that head too, and take the whole reward for killing both?" Tetsuya spat.

"If you'd like to carry this, be my guest." Kotaro had turned his head towards the kid, to see what they meant, but the sight of the severed head flying through the air towards Tetsuya put him over the edge.

He leaned against the cart, and promptly lost his lunch all over the ground.

"Fucking shit! Don't throw it at me!"

"Fujikawa-san!"

He wasn't particularly interested in anything 'Saori' had to say, however. Tetsuya was similarly unimpressed.

"Look what you've done, you sissy little freak! Why do I always get the most shit partners?"

A few long seconds later, while Kotaro simply hung limply, supported by his arm, the bile seeping from his mouth like the sticky honey residue that always ended up caked to the top of the jar, 'Saori' appeared, hands wet and clean, and offered a cloth to wipe his mouth.

In their other hand, they had a flask, which they held out for him as he wiped. He tried his best to get the taste out, but it always lingered. The child nudged the water bottle meaningfully, glaring daggers over their shoulder. Kotaro didn't dare look, because that was where the head had landed.

"My apologies, Fujikawa-san. I did not notice your squeamishness," 'Saori' apologized. "If you will humor me for a few minutes, I will dispose of the deceased."

Kotaro just nodded.

"Is there anything else you require?"

He shook his head. The creepy child left him alone, then. He hadn't heard from Tetsuya in a bit, either, but he wasn't interested in turning around and finding out what the man had done with the severed head.

Kotaro just leaned back against the cart, and privately hoped he'd never have anything to do with ninja ever again.

* * *

Itachi sighed, and collected her pay from the mission desk. Between Fujikawa-san refusing to pay the full amount, and the amount of her income that was taken by the clan, there wasn't as much as she'd expected. It wasn't a big deal - Itachi wasn't strapped for cash, but the dress that she'd worn while playing Saori hadn't come cheap, and it wasn't something she could just buy often. Mikoto and Fugaku could give her money, but she was - well, she wasn't an adult in anything other than legal terms, but she was a ninja and she did have her own income. And maybe she did, on some level, still see herself as an adult - even in that past life, she hadn't liked asking for money. Here, it was the same.

And, she'd rather liked that dress. She was at the point where she could hide it with seals and wash it with jutsu, so she'd collected some clothes in the last few years.

Still, she also had the bounty from killing Kumo-nin, even if Tetsuya had thrown a hissyfit and demanded more than half of the reward for killing Daisuke of the Quickened Blade. It was embarrassing to watch, and Itachi would be lying if she said she hadn't been just as petty back. She didn't blame the client in the slightest - it was an absolute shitshow, and a disgrace to Konoha.

Itachi just wasn't sure if she cared.

She knew on some level that she should, but Tetsuya had been an overgrown manchild who didn't deserve even half the money she earned them, and it irked her to have had to split the bounty with him.

She had other shit to deal with, nowadays. Sasuke was in his first year of the Academy, now, eager and talented. He was, in a word, sunny. Not at all the dire, angry avenger that seemed more distant every day. And since she'd chosen to attend his entrance ceremony, instead of the mission Fugaku had set up, she wasn't part of ANBU yet.

There was that nagging doubt, lurking in the back of her mind, that she'd somehow messed it up - by doing that, or beforehand, or even just now, by not performing perfectly well on all her missions. She didn't know if that other Itachi had ever failed any missions, but she couldn't boast a perfect record, unfortunately. It ate at her, almost as much as her body did.

Not that her body ate at her as much, anymore. After her...hasty body alteration, she needed something more than just the flexibility jutsu, but there was a limit to how much she could alter herself everyday physically. It had stymied her for years, and she spent that time in a lethargic state without sex hormones. As a result, she had grown taller and thin - with long arms, legs, and fingers, but not more masculine.

But then, she'd realized something - it wasn't something her body was incapable of producing - everyone had a mix of estrogen and testosterone, so she was experimenting with a jutsu that would fool her body into producing female sex hormones. It was deceptively simple, and all she could do, now - she wouldn't be able to measure its effectiveness until she started puberty. But, the lack of testicles was enough, for now.

Of course, it didn't hurt that she took every opportunity for solo missions outside of the village, so that she could dress in female clothes. Today was her first attempt at dressing that way with someone else - and she found herself leery of repeating the experience.

She was barely outside of the Hokage's tower, walking down the side, half in thought, when she felt something grab the back of her head in an iron-like grip. A split second later, she had stomped on someone's foot, and dashed a few feet up the tower, spinning to face -

"Kane."

"Hey, Itachi," he said. Kane had grown, in the time since their first mission as Team Six. His brown hair was still short, but it was swept up, and his blue eyes had grown piercing. At thirteen, he towered over the ten-year-old Itachi. He eyed Itachi's hair, where she realized she'd left a girly, flower-adorned clip.

Itachi began to feel her ears going slightly pink, but Kane didn't say anything. He just clutched his foot, gritting his teeth. He still seemed happy to see her, regardless.

"Back from your mission?" he winced, smiling. "Go well?"

"I am," Itachi replied. "And unfortunately, it did not, in fact, go well."

"Oh? Did you fail? Did the great and peerless Uchiha Itachi actually fail at something?"

"Very funny. It was nothing quite so dire," Itachi said, her lips twisting in a smirk. "No, I was paired with a chuunin who did not approve of either the strategy I employed or my general person, and I allowed my conflict with him to escalate to the point where I did something I regret immensely."

Kane laughed, and slung a comfortable arm around Itachi's shoulder. "This is gonna be good," he beamed.

Itachi narrowed her eyes, but Kane was oblivious. "The client was uncomfortable, so I thought I might reassure him by posing as his child, and Tetsuya-san as his guard. But Tetsuya saw this as an uneven division of labor. So when the Kumo-nin attacked, he was with the client. I killed one, and sealed his head in a scroll. When his partner attacked, Tetsuya did the brunt of the fighting, until I seized the opportunity to kill the target."

"So he hated...what? The fact that you killed the other shinobi and he got none of the credit?" Kane looked skeptical.

"Basically. He confronted me for taking the credit, and consequently the reward. I threw the severed head at him."

"What!?"

Itachi leveled a gaze at him. "I threw the head at him."

Kane started snickering, trying to swallow mounting laughter. "You're a riot, you know that?"

Itachi sighed. "He wanted the reward so badly, he could carry it himself."

"You're absolutely hardcore, Itachi." Kane said, surprise evident in his tone. "Of course he's not gonna react well to that."

"I know," Itachi said. "I was angry, and I wanted to gross him out. I hadn't considered that it was ninja that our client didn't like. He threw up his lunch, and refused to pay the full amount for the mission."

Kane shook his head, shrugging. "But that's not your fault."

"How is it not, Kane? Am I not responsible for the client's well-being? Am I not a shinobi of Konoha, obligated to keep my client safe? I do not blame him. We acted like children," Itachi said, feeling the head color her cheeks.

Kane sighed at her, and shrugged. "It was more him than you, but I see your point."

Itachi nodded, and changed the subject. "How is the team?"

"Oh, Katsu-sensei's his old self, you know? And Yuugao is...Yuugao. Our new teammate is a quiet and gentle boy that lets her walk all over him."

Itachi chuckled. Yuugao didn't respond well to submission. "That sounds about right."

The silence stretched between them. They'd moved down the tower, and now they were mingling through streets of Konoha, a gentle breeze curling around them. This street was busy, and they weaved in and out of the crowd, as they walked.

"Itachi?"

"Yes, Kane?" she asked.

"Let's go up to the rooftops," he proposed. She nodded, and followed him up the side of a nearby building, to the top of a corner roof. When they had some privacy, he turned and faced her.

"Are you okay?" He was deliberately not looking at her, thumbs in his pockets.

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I just - you've been so distant, lately. And, Itachi, don't take this the wrong way," Kane took a breath, "but are you, uh - you're not dying or anything, right?"

Itachi blinked. What? "No, I'm not dying. I'm perfectly fine."

It was silent, as they stood on a strange rooftop, near the center of town.

"If you say so, Itachi," he said.

Itachi stopped, and looked over at Kane. "What makes you so concerned?"

Kane stopped, too and turned back around, eyes flitting up and down her face. "You just look so tired." He paused, looking down at his feet, and then back up at her. "I mean, you've always looked tired, but lately, you just seem like you've been more tired than usual. I just wanted to know if something was up."

Was something up? Not really - Itachi was running herself ragged on missions, training harder than she ever had before she'd become a chuunin, staying up late and working on inventing her jutsu, all while trying to juggle spending time with all the important people in her life - Sasuke, Mikoto, Fugaku, Shisui, Kane, and occasionally Yuugao or Katsu-sensei.

So, all in all, not really.

"No, I don't think so," she finally said, taking a few steps forward. Kane walked to match her. "I've just been busy."

"Okay, Itachi. I just - you know you can come to me for anything, right?"

Itachi stared at him, then, wondering what he meant by that. Surely he didn't mean what she thought he meant, right? She had a shock of terrified self-consciousness, before she forced herself to tamp it down. There was no reason to be afraid - there was no way he could know; even if he did, he was Kane. There was no way that he was both capable of figuring it out and was the kind of person that would really care about something like that.

So she breathed easy, and forced her face into something resembling a smile. "Thanks, Kane," she said. "I think I'm alright, though." It was sweet of him to offer, and most certainly genuine, but people didn't want something like that dumped on their laps. And it wasn't like telling him would make her feel better, honestly.

What would make her feel better was completing her jutsu.

"Anytime, Itachi," he said, and she didn't even need the Sharingan to know how serious he was.

"Seriously, Kane," she said again. "Thanks. But I'm fine. I'll let you know if I need help with anything - promise."

"Cool," he said, and grinned, his smile splitting his face wide.

"One day, I might ask you for help. But for today, I'm alright."

"Okay," he said. "I've got to run. Don't be a stranger!"

* * *

Itachi was waiting for Sasuke the moment he stepped out of the Academy building. Sasuke grinned, his whole face splitting at the sight of his beloved older brother, lurking in the shadow of the tree, away from the rest of the parents.

His brother wore black, per usual, long dark hair glinting in the shade, and Sasuke ran up and threw himself into his arms.

"Hey there, little brother," Itachi said, dark eyes twinkling. His brother had the prettiest eyes Sasuke had ever seen. "How was your day?" They started to walk away from the Academy. Sasuke wrenched his brother's hand, capturing it in both of his as they walked.

"Oh!" Sasuke grinned. "Sensei made us touch our chakra. I'm already ahead of all those lessons."

"Are you, now?" Itachi asked, amusement coloring his voice. "You're a master of chakra, then?"

"No," Sasuke said. His brother was so silly sometimes. "But I can stick a leaf to my forehead, easy!"

When he looked up, at Itachi's face, he saw that Itachi was looking away, frowning. He followed Itachi's gaze to a boy with yellow hair, walking away.

"Itachi?" Sasuke asked.

Itachi looked back at him, expression smooth again. "Sorry, Sasuke. I was distracted." He produced a leaf, holding it out. "Show me."

Sasuke did, grabbing the leaf and holding it to his forehead, screwing up his eyes, and forcing the sea inside of him up into his head.

When he had it, he looked up, eager to show his brother how skilled he was.

Itachi smiled, small and gentle, but his eyes still looked a little sad. Itachi's eyes were always a little sad.

But he just said, "Very good, Sasuke. But-"

He reached out and took the leaf from Sasuke's forehead, holding it in front of Sasuke's face. The edges had curled a bit. Itachi stroked the edges with long, dexterous fingers.

"See this here? You're using too much. It curls, because it's got too much chakra - there's nowhere for it to go. Too much of anything is harmful."

"Oh," Sasuke said. "I'll do better!" His older brother was very smart.

"But we should get you home," Itachi said.

"Aww," Sasuke whined. When they got home, Itachi would inevitably have something more important to do. The few minutes that it took to walk home was time that Sasuke had Itachi all to himself.

"Oh?" Itachi said. "You don't want to go home, then?"

Sasuke pursed his lips, and looked away. There was no way he could lie to Itachi, of all people.

"What's wrong?" his brother asked.

Sasuke just shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. He wasn't sure how to explain it, anyway.

"Well, let me ask this: Would you like to take you to the sweets shop?" Itachi asked.

Mutely, Sasuke nodded.

"Alright, then," Itachi said, and changed directions, going left instead of straight. Sasuke smiled. Itachi was good like that - he wouldn't press, just quietly do things for Sasuke.

Sasuke finally remembered to ask, "How was your mission, Itachi?"

Itachi grinned. "It was fine. We escorted a shoji door salesman to Tanzaku-gai. He was apparently very talented, because there was a Lightning shinobi after him. My partner distracted him, dressed as a guard for the caravan, and I struck the killing blow, when he was distracted."

"Wow," Sasuke said. "You're awesome!"

"I disguised myself as a civilian," Itachi said, smiling a funny smile. "But I was arrogant."

"What?" Sasuke blinked. He was stunned. Itachi was perfect, the impeccable shinobi. He had never considered that his impeccable, perfect brother could be flawed.

Itachi still had that strange expression on his face, looking down at Sasuke. "I never considered the people around me. I thought since I am very skilled, other people will respect that. And so, my pay was docked on this mission - both my partner and the client complained about my performance."

Sasuke's mouth dropped in horror. "What do you mean? You're awesome, big brother! I don't believe that!"

Itachi looked at him. His eyes were sad. "That is arrogance, Sasuke. No matter how strong or how talented we are, there will always be someone better. It is only by striving to become better that we succeed. Especially at the top. That's when it's most important."

"I don't get what you mean," Sasuke pouted.

"You must always become better. Surpass me, Sasuke. Surpass all of our clan. I believe in you." Itachi's eyes bored into his. "You will become the greatest of all of us, no matter what anyone says."

Sasuke couldn't hold his brother's eyes any more, and he looked away. "Father doesn't think so."

Itachi sighed. "Our father is sometimes foolish. There are many things on his mind. He expects you to be like me. For all of this, he is missing your true potential. Another form of arrogance. It will become the undoing of our clan, if we let it."

"Oh." Sasuke got it now. He smacked his palm into his fist, and made a resolution. "So, never stop training, even when you think you're the best."

"Yes, Sasuke." Itachi smiled at him. "You'll understand someday. All the strength in the world can't solve some problems."

Sasuke didn't know what to say to that, so he let Itachi alone, in the comfortable silence that stretched between them.

* * *

Itachi allowed herself to drop down to the warehouse floor. She didn't even bother to mask her landing - the ringleaders were dead already. It was a long mission, to track a group of smugglers, known for smuggling illicit substances - drugs, explosives, and a bunch of chemicals that Itachi didn't recognize - into Fire Country. Itachi had spent two weeks rooting them out, destroying shipments, ambushing drug mules, and kidnapping dealers.

It had all led to this - tracking them to the center of their lair and murdering them one by one in a night of blood and fire. Itachi had come a long way from that first fateful mission in Futatsuhama, with her old team. Now, she had some experience for these kinds of missions - not that finding civilian criminals was particularly hard for a sufficiently skilled jonin. When she dropped down into the warehouse, she was in her element.

A group of men were seated around a table, like they had watched a bunch of gangster films and taken notes on them. Perhaps they had. Itachi certainly wasn't complaining - sitting there like that made them all the more vulnerable.

A moment later, a fireball was winging its way across the warehouse, throwing everything - Itachi included - into sharp, golden relief.

The criminals shouted, and some of them dove away from the table. Others, however, were not so lucky. Sharingan whirling, Itachi registered two caught in the flames. The table lit up too, but the other four men had made it clear. One of them was moving far too quickly for a civilian, and immediately threw a kunai at her. He had pale, chalk-white skin and his body looked far too thin for how athletic he was.

Itachi had a hand up, kunai of her own in her palm, smacking it away, casual and unhurried. He threw a second, but she deflected it just as easily. He simply wasn't fast enough to truly threaten her Sharingan. She drew one of her fans, in her other hand.

By this time, the three other men were picking themselves up, off the ground. Itachi doubted that the man with ninja training cared about his comrades, so she went after them. He wasn't charging her, so she slipped over to the first one, and sliced out both of his Achilles tendons. It would be inconvenient if she had no one to question afterwards.

When she looked up again, the pale man with ninja training was gone, a door to the warehouse swinging ajar.

Itachi wasted no time - she threw two kunai, into the necks of the remaining men, and gave chase. The man was fast, but the Sharingan gave her the ability to pursue him, even when he was out of sight. So she gave chase, sprinting up the side of the wall to the rooftop. On top, she saw him fleeing across rooftops, and threw herself over the nearest gap.

He was fast, but not fast enough - she was still underage, but she wasn't critically handicapped by the length of her legs anymore. The town wasn't really that large, so her window to catch him on the rooftops was rapidly closing. Itachi quickly rummaged in her pouch, grabbing a piece of ninja wire and looping it through her kunai. Then, she threw a careless bundle of shuriken at the fleeing man.

In flight, they multiplied, and then multiplied again, and then a whole forest of shuriken were whistling through the air.

As she predicted, he twisted his body through the air, deflecting the rest, and she threw her looped kunai, aiming for his leg.

That was when the first thing went wrong - he bent his leg almost entirely the wrong way, folding it up into his body in a gruesome display of acrobatics. He looked back at Itachi, then, catching her eye and gloating. A smug smile tilted his pale lips.

Of course, eye contact was exactly what Itachi wanted. It was all she needed to catch him in an illusion. The Sharingan whirled, and then the man was screaming his lungs out, toppling off the roof a moment later. Itachi grinned, and caught up, dropping down behind him.

It was quick work, to gag him and truss him up with more ninja wire. Itachi debated it, at first, but then she decided to slice his tendons, too, rolling him over and neatly hobbling him. For good measure, she stomped on his knees, too. He'd displayed freakish abilities before, so it made sense to stop him from getting away.

She lifted him up, and carted him back to the warehouse, which was not as much a warehouse, anymore, and more an enormous conflagration. Itachi stopped, and threw her bundle down on the ground. It'd be fine. He wasn't going anywhere.

She flashed into the burning building, and saw the man whose ankles she'd cut. He was unmoving, on the ground. Itachi leaned down and checked his pulse. He must have suffocated from the lack of oxygen. Unfortunate, but the man with ninja training was likely to know the most anyway.

She went back out, and grabbed him, carrying him out into the woods, dumping him on the banks of a nearby stream. It was secluded enough for her purposes, since she didn't want to be disturbed.

Then, she dropped the genjutsu that held her prisoner fast, in his own nightmares. His eyes finally regained their focus, and they snapped to her, before he started to writhe, straining against his bonds.

She stepped on his sliced ankle, and he screamed, trying to edge away from her on ruined legs. Itachi couldn't help the grin that curled her lips. She bent down, and removed the gag.

"So, are you a Leaf traitor, or something else?" she asked.

He just spat blood at her. That was fine. She was about to get bloody enough anyway. She grabbed one of his hands, and opened a fan. Then she leaned down, and held the edge against the tip of his pinky finger. A quick twitch of her wrist, and then the very end of it fell off, dropping into the grass. He screamed, nice and loud, and Itachi found that sound almost as satisfying as the clean slicing of her fan through flesh.

"You don't want to tell me? That's fine. You have many, many soft, sensitive places for me to hurt you."

He still didn't talk, but Itachi could see it in his eyes. This wasn't a man who could stand the kind of pain that she could dish out. It was only a matter of time.

And that might have been the most satisfying part of this entire process.

She reached down, and grabbed his other hand, pulling it up so it was right in front of his face. She sliced the edge of that pinky finger off too, the little blades on the edge of the fan making soft clicking noises as they parted bone. He screamed again, and Itachi raised her eyebrows expectantly.

He still didn't seem all that interested in talking. Itachi twisted her mouth. Cutting off fingers was so...predictable.

"Fine," she said. "I understand. You have some loyalty, some sort of...attachment, to whoever you're working for. It can't be for yourself. You would have given up by now, if that was the case.

"So, there's not enough incentive to sell out whatever undoubtedly scary person you answer to. I can fix that. Let's up the ante, shall we?"

She reached forward, and ripped his pants, brandishing her fan. He took one look at her face, and then tried to thrash away twice as hard.

Itachi's concentration was broken by a rustle, in the leaves behind her. She spun, horrified at dropping her guard this much, and allowing someone to sneak up on her.

Silhouetted against the trees, a tall figure in a mask, stood, spiky hair swaying gently.

"Don't you think you should have brought him to T&I, for interrogation?" the ANBU asked.

Itachi mouthed soundlessly, horror permeating every inch of her. He'd been watching her, this whole time. On his belt, she saw a second white mask. When she'd skipped the mission for Sasuke's introduction ceremony, that hadn't disqualified her, like she'd thought. That just made them come to her.

The blood dripped off her fan. There was nothing to say. It was very obvious that she'd been torturing him for the fun of it.

"How awkward," the ANBU said. Itachi groaned.


	13. Summer Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had such nice reviews, I felt like updating. No content warnings this time! Expect 6 months before next chapter, unfortunately.

The wind rustled through the trees, and blood continued to trickle down the edges of Itachi’s fan.

“Ah,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face. “I must have missed you there, ANBU-san. My apologies.” She made herself step away from the man, who scrambled away, twitching and pulling his pants up.

The ANBU man didn’t say anything, so Itachi tried again. “Was there something you wanted, ANBU-san?”

He coughed, and cleared his throat. Itachi plowed right on. He was the one that started this.

“I was in the middle of something, so if you don’t mind…?”

The ANBU went off into a full cough. “In case it wasn’t obvious, there will be no more of that,” he waved his hand around her for emphasis, “while you are under my command.”

Itachi nodded, and quickly put away her fan. “Of course,” she said. She was half-tempted to call him sensei, but it might be presumptuous.

Then the ANBU cocked his head, like a bird. He stepped forward, and Itachi realized that his hair, which had looked brown in the moonlight, was a silver-grey. Itachi did a double-take. Fuck. Was that Kakashi?

She had to resist the urge to wince. This was likely her new team, and her new captain. And she’d not made a good impression, that was for sure.

“And as punishment,” he said, “You’ll have to carry your little friend around for the entirety of tonight. Make sure he sees nothing.”

Okay? That was bizarre. Itachi nodded, and walked back over to her captive. He had given her far more trouble than she’d hoped. Konoha had better get something useful from him.

She met his eyes with her own, and spelled him back into unconsciousness, before picking him up, and hoisting him over one shoulder. It was not a particularly comfortable position - as a shinobi, she could augment her strength to easily carry a grown man, but she was still young. It was not a question of weight, but of size.

She turned, and staggered back around to Kakashi, her gait stunted by the weight on her shoulder. Behind the mask, she could tell he was pleased.

“Good,” he said. “Now, you’ll follow me.”

* * *

He set a grueling pace that she could barely keep up with, because, as she was discovering, she wasn’t the only one who had a proclivity for sadism.

It wasn’t that far to Konoha, so she managed. He stopped, abruptly, about a half-mile from the village, and Itachi had to do a half-turn to avoid crashing into him. He turned.

“I heard a lot about you, Uchiha Itachi. _And I am not impressed_.” His words burned her, like icicles that were painful to touch. “Prove to me that you’re worthy of this.”

And then he moved - Itachi reflexively activated her Sharingan, and she still almost missed it. The blow was simple - a knife-hand to the ribs - but it was so fast that Itachi could barely do more but turn her body and take the blow on the side of her chest, instead of dead on in her solar plexus.

She scrambled backwards, dropping the unconscious missing-nin on the ground, putting her hands up. Of course, that was when Kakashi kicked her in the face, snapping her head back.

Itachi felt herself crumple, scraping herself up and away from him.

“I thought I told you that he was your responsibility?” he said, voice dripping with disdain. “Pick him up.”

Itachi lifted herself up, chest aching, and slouched over to her captive, grabbing him and throwing him over one shoulder.

Kakashi came at her again, and she barely got an arm up to block in time. He wasn’t holding back. Itachi tried to go on the offensive, swinging the man on her shoulder around as a shield, but she got a kick to the chest, again, for her trouble.

This was not a fight she could win, she realized, as he smashed her, again and again, into the dirt. Every time she lost her grip on her captive, he stopped, and made her pick him up again. She tried switching arms, but that didn’t help either.

Reprieve didn’t come until Kakashi allowed it. Itachi was suddenly looking desperately around for a blow that never came. She was too afraid to stop watching for it, so he must have stood there for a good half-minute before she straightened, dropping her arms.

When she looked over at him, he was nonchalant as you please, hands in pockets. “Oh,” he said. “Did you want something?”

Itachi gritted her teeth. “What’s next?” she asked, not caring if it was rude or not.

He laughed at her. “Oh, I don’t know. For you, I mean. I’m going to back to my place and have a bath.”

Her mouth worked soundlessly.

“Oh, and-” he came forward and handed her the second mask from his belt, and a black-wrapped bundle. “Your mandatory initial ANBU training is at 8am the day after tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

Itachi took it numbly. “Where?” she asked.

But when she looked around for him, he was already gone.

* * *

Fugaku only stopped when he reached the back of their garden, gesturing his son to sit on the small bench that nestled among the leaves of a nearby tree, and the carefully tended roses.

Itachi sat, and sagged into the seat. The bags under his eyes were particularly deep today, and Fugaku figured it must have been because of how little he’d slept last night. Hatake must have kept him up.

Fugaku decided to ease his son into it. “I received a visit from your ANBU captain this morning.”

He could tell from the way that Itachi immediately tensed that this wasn’t the right way to ease him into it. But that ship was sunk, already. Itachi didn’t offer anything. He just remained staring straight ahead.

“I am sure you can guess what we talked about,” Fugaku said. And wasn’t that unexpected. He’d had no idea - Itachi had shown absolutely no signs of that kind of behavior growing up. He’d struggled a bit after his first few C-ranked missions, but he’d opened up to Mikoto, and he’d seemed to be adjusting well to the life of a ninja, even taking additional missions whenever he could.

Itachi just nodded. “Yes, Father.”

“Congratulations. You have been accepted into ANBU. Your team leader is well-respected, and the team itself is a good fit. You have done very well.” Itachi twitched, an expression Fugaku recognized as surprise.

“Thank you,” he finally bit out. “But I am sure he mentioned something else.”

“He did,” Fugaku admitted.

Itachi stared at him. He didn’t have much of a reaction, but Fugaku could read his eyes easily enough.

“I apologize,” Itachi finally said. “I have acted shamefully, and there is no excuse.”

“Itachi,” Fugaku cut him off. “You have, and you are correct. But I want to know why you would torture a man for pleasure.”

Itachi shrugged. “I enjoyed it. It was relaxing, an escape. A way to cope with this lifestyle.”

Something about the casual way in which he’d said it jostled Fugaku’s memory. A different Uchiha, standing across a field of flames, flashed through his head. How unruffled he had seemed, too, before he’d snapped.

“No shrugging,” he scolded absentmindedly before continuing, “Will you be able to cope without it?”

Itachi made an aborted motion that probably would have been a shrug had he not just been told off for one, face red. “I don’t know,” he said, in a small voice.

Fugaku nodded. “Fix this. I will not be pleased to hear of another incident.”

Itachi looked at his hands, palms turned up, gently curling them into fists, and then uncurling them. He murmured to himself, and Fugaku found himself compelled to speak.

“I am not surprised, however.” Itachi looked at him, surprise flitting across his face. “Growing up, my parents caught my brother with small animals. He would frequently torture them, or dissect them, in his free time. It was something of a pastime for him.”

Fugaku could not help the small thrill of pleasure at the sight of his cold, impassive son sitting there, mouth hanging open.

He continued, “It was only later that it became evident, however, that he was truly unwell. You are not him, but-” Fugaku couldn’t help but look away from Itachi’s searching eyes at this point, “-this kind of thing does run in families.”

“You don’t mean - I’m not-”

“You are not,” Fugaku agreed. “But my brother was a severe case. You are not like him, but I believe you have something of what he had. Much more so than your brother.”

Itachi palmed his face, rubbing his thumb gently across the pale skin. “There is nothing wrong with Sasuke.”

“No,” Fugaku agreed. “But he could work harder.”

He could see the anger in Itachi, as easily as if he was shouting. “He is different. He needs different things.”

A silence stretched between them, then, until Itachi broke it again.

“What is it exactly that you think I have?”

“A decreased capacity for empathy. The stress you feel - was it ever about killing people?” At the look on Itachi’s face, he knew he was correct. “The time that you confided in Mikoto about your first mission - you were worried about what you might become, not the act itself.”

Itachi nodded to himself, and something in him seemed to wilt. When he looked up, his eyes flitted around like hummingbirds, only occasionally lingering on Fugaku’s face.

“Are my feelings real?” he asked, half to himself, voice soft.

“Of course,” Fugaku dismissed. “If it feels real to you, then it is real. Worrying about it beyond that is useless.”

Itachi bowed his head. “Of course, Father.”

“The next time you feel any… urges,” he drew out the word, “come to me. This is nothing to be ashamed about. You are an exemplary shinobi, and I am proud to call you my son.”

He twitched. Fugaku let that go, however. Itachi would tell him if something was wrong. He reached over, and grasped his shoulder once, and then stood up and left the garden.

Itachi remained, alone with the flowers and deep thoughts.

* * *

The package that Kakashi had left Itachi that contained her uniform - the hard, plated gauntlets that reached to her elbows, the goofy-looking chestplate, and a bundle of black clothing, to wear underneath. The mask itself was plain white - she figured that the paint came later. It also came with a cute little sword - the standard issue variant.

It felt strange, wearing it. That was partly because hers was slightly oversized - apparently they didn’t make them with eleven-year-olds in mind - and partly because of how little it did to actually conceal her identity. She was tall for her age, but that didn’t conceal the fact that she was a child. She looked more like a child playing dress-up than any kind of serious shinobi.

Still, she reported to the assigned place, and followed the directions to a spooky secret underground complex. It was thrilling, in a spy-movie sort of way. Of course, there was nothing thrilling about the gigantic man in an incomprehensible mask that was waiting for her.

The ANBU was officially a black ops unit, which meant that they were known as a cut above normal shinobi. So while she expected the physical training, drills, and general skill evaluation, Itachi found herself wholly unprepared for the long silences and faceless conformity. She had thought that this was a one-time introduction, but she was given a small cot in the barracks, and she found the days passing, blurring together until she lost all sense of how much time had passed.

She found herself silent, in a room full of blank-masked people - she didn’t know if they were also new, all going through katas in unison, or sparring with taijutsu or their standard-issues shortswords. They ate in unison, slept in unison, and trained in unison. She was not allowed to use her sharingan, so every moment she learned through repetition. Only rarely did something different happen - she would be pulled aside for a weird little man to cast genjutsu at her, or the enormous man - she had learned that he was Boar - that had first shown her around would watch her perform jutsu, to test her skill.

Sometimes, they would be allowed varying amounts of sleep - a particularly grueling day had them on no sleep at all.

Until, as abruptly as it had started, she was done. Boar called her out of line, and led her to a room that she had never been to before. Inside, there were dozens of masks - they were hung up and down an entire wall, all manner of animals painted on top of the delicate porcelain.

“Your induction is finished, as of now,” he said. “Congratulations. As of now, you are ANBU Weasel.”

Itachi thought that someone, somewhere, was laughing at her. They thought they were hilarious, too.

She nodded her head, and accepted the mask he handed her. She liked the red stripe on the top, at least.

The very last thing she did was sit in a different room, in a strange padded chair, while the weird little man from before inked an ANBU tattoo into her shoulder. Apparently, it contained a bit of chakra, and could signal her when she was supposed to report in an emergency.

And then, before she knew it, she was out, in the fresh air, walking around in a daze. It had been three weeks since she had first put on the ANBU uniform, and descended underground for an ‘introduction.’ It hadn’t been something she was expecting, but she did feel significantly more prepared to meet with Kakashi again.

So she went home, but not before ridding herself of the obvious pieces of the ANBU uniform. When she stepped through the front door, her family was having dinner.

There was something lovely about sitting down with the rest of them.

* * *

Kakashi wasted no time in calling her to practice. When she wandered into a secluded training ground at the time he’d scheduled, she looked around at the assembled members of ANBU. At this point, Itachi couldn’t help it. She stopped, and chuckled to herself.

Of course he was going to be late to his own practice. He was committed to the lateness schtick, there was no reason to expect he’d relax it for ANBU. It was still practice, after all.

So Itachi had the fabulously awkward experience of standing around with a bunch of ANBU she’d never met before in a training field, waiting for their captain to show up. She found herself huddled against a tree, hands in her pockets, wishing she’d brought a book to read or something.

Suddenly, Kakashi’s habitual lateness was a lot less funny.

Itachi was torn - it might be best to introduce herself, and try to make friends, but Itachi didn’t feel comfortable doing that. It was funny - she might have done so if they weren’t all wearing masks, but the anonymity of the ANBU uniform was intimidating - particularly considering that Itachi was a whole foot shorter than any of them.

She couldn’t imagine there wasn’t some resentment about being saddled with a child. Itachi might have felt that, if the situations were reversed. She wanted to take refuge in procedure, wanted the legitimacy of Kakashi being there, even if he thought she was psychotic.

Not that he was totally wrong about that, of course. But she wasn’t some uncontrolled beast - if she was a monster, she was at least a neat monster. She had waited until she’d found an acceptable target, and she was alone.

She huffed. Fugaku had told her to her face that he thought she was - a psychopath? Itachi had never studied that sort of thing, so she wasn’t sure of the difference between psychopathy and sociopathy. Either way, it didn’t matter. It didn’t change anything.

Itachi was still Itachi and whether this was a new thing or something that had been around since her other life was irrelevant. Fugaku was right.

And he’d been supportive, in his own way. Itachi let her mouth quirk a smile underneath the mask. Her father wasn’t a terribly expressive man, but the thing with his brother must have been a big deal to him, if he searched her out like that.

One of the ANBU shuffled, his mask twitching left and right. Itachi wasn’t sure what his animal was - some kind of cat? That twigged her memory, for some reason. Itachi wasn’t sure, but she figured she should probably recognize him. She didn’t recognize the final person’s mask, either - but she was not very good at identifying masks, apparently.

Kakashi finally ambled up, hands in his pockets, and angled an unimpressed graze at all of them. His ability to convey ‘unimpressed,’ even through a full-face porcelain mask, was exceptional.

Her teammates straightened up, and Itachi fell in line with the other two. At this point, the motion was mostly instinctual - those weeks of training had left their mark.

“Yo,” Kakashi said. “We have a midget.” Underneath her mask, Itachi’s mouth moved soundlessly. Kakashi walked right to Itachi, and patted her condescendingly on the head. “His name’s ANBU Weasel, and he likes long walks on the beach, he dislikes fun, and his dearest dream is to become a member of Torture and Interrogation.”

Oh, wow. Kakashi sure didn’t feel like pulling his punches, did he? That wasn’t quite, ‘Weasel’s a little psycho who likes torturing people for fun,’ but Kakashi clearly wasn’t about to let her forget what he caught her doing, either.

“Anyway,” he continued. “Let’s do this. Weasel knows all the standard formations, so I’m in a bit of a mood to watch you all try and beat the shit out of each other for a while. Hop to it!”

Itachi froze, not sure if that meant right now right now, or whether there was some kind of etiquette for this situation. The other ANBU - Itachi decided to call them Rabbit - was in the middle of the line, and they executed a graceful spin-kick to put some distance between themselves and their opponents.

Itachi decided that the best move was to get out of dodge, before the follow-up sword swipe took a piece out of her. Rabbit flipped up, two short, curved swords glinting menacingly. Cat, on the other hand, had hopped back as well, clapping his hands together. A spear of wood erupted from the ground, twisting into an elaborate tower. He hopped up on top, surveying them both.

She wanted to kick herself. Of course, that was Tenzo! He was on Kakashi’s team. She had forgotten, almost entirely. Instead, she glanced towards Rabbit. They were still, waiting for her to make a move.

“Well, if kekkei genkai are allowed,” Itachi muttered. “Don’t mind if I do.” Her sharingan flicked on. Across the field, the weaknesses in both her enemies’ positions erupted out at her.

“No sharingan,” Kakashi said over his book.

“But-!” Itachi screeched, gesturing to the gigantic mokuton tower. “He gets to!”

“No sharingan,” Kakashi repeated. “If my cute little Cat had a sharingan, I wouldn’t let him use it either.”

“You’re singling me out!” Itachi protested. “That’s not fair!”

“Yup. It’s not.” Kakashi agreed with her, amiably.

Itachi sighed, and launched herself at Cat. Suck-up.

This was going to be a long practice.

* * *

Itachi sighed, and stared at herself in the mirror. Her face was smooth and angular - a child’s face. But it didn’t look like a boy’s face, particularly with her longer hair - it wasn’t quite long and lovely, but it was getting there. And perhaps it was arrogant to have long hair, at ten, but the concession for vanity was necessary.

She understood that now. Outlets for her feelings were important - they stopped her from doing rash, drastic things like spontaneous genital surgery.

Still, she mused, it wasn’t like she was in a bad place, right now. If she had been born a girl, her body would likely be in a similar place to where it was now - though, she mused, the veins in her hands and the presence of the lightly-defined six-pack on her stomach weren’t quite right.

Maybe she needed to adjust her jutsu? But, she shouldn’t technically have any testosterone. It was probably that she was too skinny? And really in shape. She lightly fingered the outline of her ribs, tracing them one-by-one. She just needed to remember to eat more often. Simple. Easy. She wouldn’t be able to tell if she had the proper fat distribution if she had no fat at all.

Her genjutsu should be working, but she had no real way to test it - not until she was older - two years minimum, it was likely. Waiting felt like forever, but she could probably get away with a few more missions if -

The door opened with a bang. “Itachi-chaaaaaaan,” Shisui crowed.

“Go away, I’m naked,” Itachi said, immediately.

Shisui looked at her - arms folded over her chest, hunching over a bit. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. That is a very subtle genjutsu. I’m not actually wearing pants. It just looks like it,” Itachi told him.

His eyes bugged out, sharingan included.

“No, you’re not-”

“Shisui, get out of my room!”

“What are you yelling about?” Sasuke yelled from the hall.

“Don’t you come in too!” Itachi said. “Get out!” And she grabbed Shisui by the shoulders and pushed him out.

“We were supposed to practice!” Shisui shouted from outside the now-closed door.

“I’ll be out in a minute, once I put on the pants that I definitely wasn’t wearing before!”

“Ooooh, can I come?” Sasuke asked, voice pitching into a whine.

“I don’t know, squirt,” Shisui said. “We usually do some tough stuff.”

Itachi had the bandages around her chest and her shirt on in under ten seconds. She grabbed a bunch of kunai on her way to her bedroom door.

“I don’t mind,” she said, thinking of that other Itachi, who said no all the time. She could resolve to be better.

“Yaaaaay! I get to practice with Itachi!” Sasuke shouted.

“Now you’ve gone and done it,” Shisui muttered, pouting.

Itachi just grinned at him, smugly. “Told you to get out of my room.”

The walk to the out-of-the way training field was long and lazy, the clouds overhead thinking about rain, but dragging their feet on actually delivering it. Sasuke buzzed around, clutching a brand-new set of kunai that Itachi had bought him the other day like they were a cluster of precious gems. For all his whining, Shisui was surprisingly indulgent with him - answering questions and laughing along with Sasuke.

Itachi couldn’t help the small smile that curled into her gut. This was what it was about, wasn’t it? This was why she fought - why shinobi fought in general. There was something almost noble about it. She could understand it, a little more now.

“Hey, Itachi, stop grinning like an idiot, and tell Sasuke about that trick we came up with.”

“What - oh! Yes, Shisui came up with an obstacle course using kunai that neither of us has managed to complete successfully yet.”

“Wow! It must be really hard!” Sasuke enthused.

“It is indeed challenging,” Itachi said. “It also is nearly impossible without the sharingan, so, please, do not feel discouraged if you are not able to complete it.”

“I won’t!” Sasuke promised. Itachi would not hold it against him if he broke that promise.

Instead, she just smirked, and said, “First, I want to see you fight. Come, Sasuke!”

She ran, and, just as he figured, he chased her. Shisui was not to be left behind, and sprinted after them, grinning ear to ear.

Itachi comfortably beat Sasuke to the training ground, and as he stepped over the boundary, she attacked with a sweeping roundhouse kick at a speed that was almost too fast for him. He gamely ducked, and swung back.

The wind rustled through the trees, and the river gently trickled a few feet away. Here, she found some measure of peace. Here, she could just be Itachi, and not worry about what that meant.

She could easily have beaten him - he was still in the Academy, and just starting that, at an age where most children would be learning to fight - their spars were likely few and far between, and most of the training was on form and technique, not on application.

But even then, Itachi could see his potential. He had good instincts - he was the son of a clan head, so that was to be expected, but Sasuke already avoided a number of beginner’s mistakes, some that she’d even struggled with. He didn’t seem to grasp things as quickly, but give him ten years, and she was sure she’d have trouble beating him.

He also came at her with a dogged determination, undaunted by even how much he respected her. Even though they both knew she could beat him handily, he didn’t let that stop him from throwing himself into the fight with every little bit of strength, skill, and speed he could muster.

Itachi just leaned back and let him go. Shisui, too, stood and watched.

When Sasuke was obviously tired, but showed no signs of quitting, Itachi punched him hard enough in the chest ot knock the wind out of him.

“That’s enough,” she said.

He collapsed, panting.

“Looking good, Sasuke,” Shisui encouraged. “Just keep those toes pointed forward.”

“Thanks!” he said, brightly. “I’ve been practicing kunai, too!” He ripped open the package, and bustled forward, fingering them.

“Hold on, kiddo,” Shisui said. “We have a whole bunch of targets out here, why don’t you choose one?” He turned him around, and aimed him at the first few, visible among the treeline.

Sasuke rose to the opportunity wonderfully - lining up his shots and tossing them. He was pretty good, for a first-year academy student. Not nearly good enough to do the course that Shisui and she had come up with.

He would be better off with an entirely different sibling - a sister that wasn’t a once in a generation prodigy. Fugaku already spent enough time comparing Sasuke to her - it wouldn’t do for him to do the same.

Sasuke had scored three center-ring targets out of five, and Shisui clapped, admiringly.

Itachi stretched, and said, “Not today, I think. The course might not be good for Sasuke.”

“You worry too much, Itachi-chan! Still, you’re the boss.” To Sasuke, he said, “Hey, Sasuke, come here!”

Sasuke collected his kunai, like a good killer-in-training, and bustled over. Shisui whipped out a long, thin scroll, and held it up.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked.

“No!” Sasuke said, eager as ever.

“Summoning scroll,” Itachi said. “But how did you get one?”

 “I took it off a Mist-nin. Rude bastard, he was. Gave me this,” he pointed out a rather nasty-looking scar on his forearm. “The Misties are all nuts, but this guy stood out. Gave it to me with his dying breath.”

“Like an animal scroll?” Sasuke asked.

“Yea! And now I can do this,” Shisui demonstrated, flashing through handsigns and biting his thumb. In a puff of smoke, a small black crow appeared.

It eyed them all, beady eyes blinking, and croaked, unimpressed, before flying off.

“Cool!” Sasuke said. “Man, that’s awesome!”

“Do they do anything yet?” Itachi asked.

“Well, no,” Shisui admitted. “But I’m sure they’ll do tons of cool things soon!”

“Sure,” she agreed. “Whatever you say.”

“I want a scroll, too!”

“Maybe when you’re older, and have enough chakra not to pass out from summoning,” Itachi said.

“Whatever, mom!” Sasuke said.

Itachi froze in shock, and Shisui burst out laughing. “You should have seen the look on your face! That’s hilarious!” She glared at him, like she wanted nothing more than to strangle him, and Shisui just kept laughing. “Anyway, squirt, let’s get you home, before your mom glares me to death.”

“Oh, I’ll do a lot more than that.”

Unfortunately, she never did catch him. Damn that boy. He’d gotten fast.


End file.
